Good Witch - Nick and Grace Come to Town
by Daniel Sullivan
Summary: Summer, 2018. Gray House is visited by Nick and Grace - two retired mercenaries. Grace Lashield (Catherine Bell 1994) and Nick Gunnar parted ways over two decades ago. They come to Middleton separately, each haunted by their own demons, drawn to Gray House by Cassie's magic. Grace is a dead ringer for Cassie, causing a stir.
1. Chapter 1

**May 2018 – Somewhere in the Antioquia Province, Colombia**

It was the perfect storm. Somehow, Grace Lashield had wound up right in the middle of it. She pulled the special forces coin from her pocket, a reminder of a hellish time she had lived through more than two decades earlier. If she could live through that, then she could certainly make it through this, bad as it was.

Heavy rains combined with a disaster at the Hidroituango Dam on the Cauca River caused massive flooding downstream, displacing thousands of people, and triggering mass evacuations. Continued rains had precipitated landslides that further complicated the matter. Relief agencies worked round the clock to evacuate people, but they could only do so much. Armed groups operated in the area, only adding to the dangers.

Grace Lashield had signed on with one of the relief agencies that worked to evacuate the locals. It was a challenging and dangerous job. But, compared to the hell she experienced in the South China Sea twenty-four years ago, this was a cakewalk.

So far, none of the armed groups in the area had interfered in the evacuations. Grace suspected that they were more concerned with not becoming victims of this disaster, though the idea of mercenaries raiding relief agencies for medical supplies was hardly unheard of, making Grace happy that she herself was armed.

Placing the coin, her only reminder of Nick Gunar, back into her pocket, Grace turned her attention to helping with the evacuation. Right now, things were merely bad. Thankfully, there was a break in the rain, but a large group of displaced people living in tents with little to no security and only a bunch of volunteers to help them was bad under any circumstances. At any second, they could go from bad to worse.

Shannon Calderon was the physician in charge, and Grace had taken to aiding her as she worked to keep these people healthy and to deal with illness and injury. It was overwhelming. Grace was no doctor, but she knew basic first aid and there was always a need for volunteers, if only for another pair of hands.

The past few days had been harrowing, but with the break in the rain, today was merely bad. Shannon, however, looked positively happy.

"Win the Powerball back in the states?" Grace joked. "I hear you can win a few hundred million."

"Something better," Shannon replied. "Doctor Sam Radford."

Grace looked around and nodded. "Another doctor is always welcome, but what makes him so special?"

"He's the top trauma surgeon in the United States," Shannon explained. "Chief of staff at a prestigious hospital, and due to arrive here any minute."

Grace made a whistling sound. "How'd we rate such a bigshot?"

"Sam's done work with our agency every year for quite a while." Shannon laughed. "For a medical adrenaline junkie like him, this is heaven."

"So, you've worked with him before?"

Shannon shook her head. "This will be a first. But I know of him. We're very lucky."

As if on cue, a sand colored Toyota Land Cruiser pulled into the camp, and Shannon began walking toward it. The front passenger door opened, and a tall man stepped out carrying two duffle bags and wearing designer outdoor wear that probably cost more than most of these people made in a year.

 _Must be nice_ , Grace thought.

Sam Radford looked to be in his early fifties, and he wore his age well. She imagined he was a bit younger than old Nick Gunar. Grace absently wondered how the old Swede was doing. He had to be almost sixty by now. Was he still alive? Would she even recognize him?

Grace shook her head. Nick Gunar was the smart one. He stayed with Loki back on the island, raising her son as his own and living in a tropical paradise. Nick had put his demons to rest and found his happily ever after. Grace was still hounded by hers, and happily ever after? Only when she watched Disney movies and romcoms.

She turned her attention back to this American doctor. Sam Radford was fair skinned, blue eyed, and light haired, everything the locals were not. He was no soldier, that was for sure. Still, he carried himself like someone who had seen disaster areas and in spite of his obvious suburban wealth, he somehow did not look out of place.

American doctor. Grace laughed at her thinking of him that way, as though he was American, and she was a local. Grace Lashield was as American as Doctor Radford. She had not set foot in the land of her birth in the more than two decades since working with Nick, and her Spanish was probably better than her English by this point, but she was an American; a nice white girl from a suburban neighborhood before she joined the military in the eighties.

 _Enough memory lane_ , she thought. Doctor Radford was here, and seemed to be getting right to business, much to Shannon's delight. Grace went back to her tasks, most of which involved helping to load the many things that needed loading onto the trucks so that they could get these people away before things went from bad to worse as they inevitably would.

The wind was blowing strong, and sky looked ominous. Grace knew the signs. She redoubled her efforts with the others to get the trucks loaded before returning to the medical tent to lend whatever hand she could. As the wind kicked up and the skies began to darken, Grace's thoughts turned again to Nick Gunar. _What happened to you, you old Swede?_


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

The rain and the wind came in hard, and it was all they could do to get people out in time. As he fixed the saline IV to his dehydrated patient using the Gray House medallion, he looked up and there, plain as day, was Cassie. She was wearing army fatigues and had a pistol at her side. She smiled at him approvingly. He blinked and shook his head – there was no way that Cassie was here in Colombia. When he looked again, she was gone.

Sam was a rational man, a man of medical science, and prided himself on being a bit of a skeptic. But his fiancée often did things that defied logical explanation. The way she just knew things amazed him. Could Cassie actually project herself thousands of miles away just to reassure him?

If anyone could, it was Cassie, but Sam was still inclined toward a more rational explanation. Cassie often befuddled him, but always in a good way. The care package she had given him was a perfect example; each and every item had proven to be perfect for very specific needs, almost as if she knew exactly what he would need before he even got to Colombia. How did she do it?

At the same time, Cassie was often blinded to things that would affect her negatively, often obvious things, and would end up being blindsided. Ryan's near, though accidental betrayal had almost cost Cassie her shop, and according to Brandon, she had almost been swindled out of Gray House while she was married to Jake, who proved instrumental in saving it.

It often seemed to come down to her believing that things would ultimately work out, and that people would rise above their baser nature and do what was right.

He smiled and shook his head. Sam's fiancée was both an open book and an inscrutable mystery. She was the most amazing person he had ever met. The fact that she had fallen in love with him was yet another mystery, one that made him the happiest man alive. All because he had chosen to move to Middleton.

The truck bounced and jostled everyone as it rode over rough terrain, but his patient's saline IV stayed in place. After using the Gray House medallion to hang the IV for the dehydrated woman, Sam Radford had officially lost everything Cassie gave him. Even the flashlight had escaped him. As the truck rolled away, he lamented the loss of her gifts, but did not regret it. Everything had been given away to help people with far less than either himself or Cassie, and he was certain she would understand.

Only the Gray House medallion really bothered him, but there was nothing to be done – the IV would never hold without it, not on an eighty-mile journey to the new location. Once there, things should settle down and Sam would soon be on his way back to Middleton. Cassie had been so worried. He had never seen her like this before, and he wanted to get back to her as soon as possible. Thankfully, he had been able to do what he had come to do. Sam Radford had helped people. It was why he became a doctor in the first place.

He leaned back and took a moment to rest. All he could think about was how Cassie had just appeared before the trucks rolled out. He would have to ask her about that when he got home. For now, he could relax and enjoy the bumpy ride.

GW

With the camp moved out of the floodplain, the people were safe. Doctor Radford had gone home, and the worst was over. Grace Lashield went to Doctor Calderon to see if there was anything else she could do. Before she walked into the tent, a teen girl tugged at her sleeve. Grace recalled that the girl's name was Maria. Doctor Radford had helped Maria's family, including setting up a saline IV for Maria's mother, Rosa.

Before they left for this location, Grace had stopped at the truck and watched as Doctor Radford helped Rosa. She could not help but smile at the sight. Then the doctor noticed, and Grace had promptly gone back to loading the trucks.

In Spanish, she asked, "How's your mom doing?"

"Much better, thanks to Doctor Radford," Maria replied, also in Spanish. "I was hoping you could help with something, though. My mother wanted to return this medallion to him, but he's gone. Could you get it to Doctor Calderon? She might know where to send it."

"Sure thing, kid," Grace promised in English. "See you round."

"Thank you," Maria replied, also in English.

Grace laughed and then looked at the medallion as Maria walked away. It had a picture of what looked like an old Victorian era mansion. On the back, it said, "Gray House."

"Oh, Grace, there you are." It was Doctor Calderon. "I wanted to thank you for all your help. I wish we could compensate you better, but …."

"Keeping me fed while I was here is thanks enough," Grace remarked. "More to life than money. I learned that lesson twenty-four years ago. Almost cost me my life. Say, what's a Gray House?"

"Gray House?" Calderon looked confused, and then she said, "Ah. Gray House. It's the bed and breakfast Doctor Radford's fiancée operates back in Middleton."

"Middleton," Grace mused.

"Yeah; Sam says it was the place where he found peace and joy. To hear him talk, it's the happiest place on Earth."

"Happiest place on Earth …."

Grace suddenly knew what she had to do. Sam Radford would get his medallion back. Grace Lashield had spent the last twenty-four years being anything but happy. Radford was a good man, good in a way that few people she had met were. In a weird way, he reminded her of Nick Gunar, though without the whole tormented soul thing.

Nick Gunar had found happiness in the arms of Loki in the South China Sea. Perhaps Grace could find happiness in a small town in middle America, at a B&B called Gray House.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

Grace Russel sat at an outdoor table out front of the Bistro. Stephanie had just served her a sandwich and latte, and Grace thought it would be a great day to enjoy the outdoors while looking at options for college. She had wanted so badly to go to Haverhill, but after learning that her attendance would have meant taking a place away from her best friend, Courtney, Grace had given up the opportunity so that Courtney could attend. She had no regrets – Courtney was truly deserving, and Grace would do anything for her friends – but now, she had to figure out her own college plans. The aroma of coffee prompted her to lift the cup to her lips and drink. She smiled as she placed the cup back on the table. A perfect cup, as always.

"Grace!"

She turned to see Courtney half walking/half running towards her, an Asian man of short stature following her. Grace practically leapt from her chair to embrace Courtney.

"Courtney!"

"Grace," Courtney replied, hugging her tightly. "This is Kam Gunar, professor of Asian history at Haverhill. I know your mom travelled all over the world, so when I told him about Cassie, he really wanted to meet her."

Grace nodded. Cassie. Everyone knew Cassie or knew of Cassie it seemed. She smiled, happy to be more anonymous than her mother. Still, Courtney also brought Professor Gunar – and this man certainly did not look like a Gunar – over to meet her.

Grace nodded and smiled at the professor, extending her right hand. "Grace Russel."

He shook her hand firmly. "Professor Gunar; but everyone calls me Kam."

Professor Gunar reminded her a bit of an action actor in one of those chop-socky films Nick liked to watch – what was his name? Then she remembered: Tony Jaa. He was only about five and a half feet tall, with a very traditional short haircut. A pair of stylish glasses and his wearing dockers and a sport coat made him look more professorial than the action star he resembled. He had leading man looks, which made Grace slightly jealous of her friend.

"School hasn't even started yet. How did you meet Courtney?"

"At the college tour," Kam explained. "I just ran into her here by chance, but she insisted I meet you."

Courtney nodded her head vigorously. "This guy is so cool! He's from this island in the South China Sea, and he came to America with his father right at the turn of the century!"

Kam nodded. "My adoptive father, actually; my birth father died when I was very young. I have no memories of him, but my mom remarried later, and when he brought me to America, he adopted me formally."

"That's so sweet," Grace exclaimed. "Your mom must really love him!"

"She did," Kam replied, his expression taking on a tone of grief. "She was killed when I was twelve. That's why Nick brought me to the states."

"Oh …." Grace did not know what else to say.

"It's alright," Kam assured. "We still miss her, but she's always with me."

"I … I'm glad you've been able to move on," Grace said as supportively as she could. "My father was killed when I was eleven. My mom and I took a long time to come to terms with it. If it helps, I do know what you're going through."

"Thank you, Grace. Courtney said you're very kind. It's my father that concerns me, though."

"Oh?" She remembered her mom's ordeal in the wake of Jake Russel's death, and could hardly imagine the grief that Kam's poor father must feel. Cassie was a remarkable woman whose insight seemed to guide her through even the darkest times. Grace doubted that Nick Gunar had that kind of insight."

"My dad blames himself," Kam explained. "He's former spec-ops. He felt he should have seen it coming … but he didn't. I told him we all knew it was a possibility, but he still blames himself. I've been trying to get him to move to Middleton – the man deserves some happiness. I've finally gotten him to come visit me here, and I plan on making reservations for him at Gray House."

"I'll make sure my mom has a room for him," Grace assured. She wondered what "it" was that should have been seen, and that others on the island had known was a possibility, but she opted not to pry.

"Thank you, Grace," Kam replied. "I keep telling him that he deserves happiness, and Middleton is the happiest place on Earth."

"Isn't that Disney World?" Courtney asked.

"Nah," Kam replied with a laugh. "That place is nice, but it's so … artificial."

Grace beamed at this. Her instincts to stay local were just affirmed. Under the right circumstances, she might be enticed to attend college further away, but still, Middleton was her home, and Grace could not imagine being far from it for long.

"Middleton really is the happiest place on Earth," Grace assured.

"Says the girl who's never left," Courtney chided.

Grace laughed. "True, but still – Middleton is special, and Kam's dad will have not one, but two Merriwick women pulling for him."

"I appreciate this more than you can imagine," Kam said softly. "My father has had a rough life, both before he met my mother, and after her death. I truly believe that the only time he's been happy in his life was his time with my mother and me on the island. I hope that he can make a new start here in Middleton."

"If he's looking for a place to start fresh," Grace assured, "Middleton is it."

Before Kam could reply, the air was split by a loud, "Yoo-hoo!"

Martha Tinsdale marched over to them, with her usual purposeful stride, waving. "Did I hear you saying that my Middleton is the happiest place on Earth?" Martha joined them and gave Grace a warm smile. "It warms my heart!"

"But don't you now live in Blairsville?" Courtney asked.

"Oh, pish-posh," Martha said dismissively. "That's all because of some form of dastardly underhanded tomfoolery, and when I figure out a way to fix this, you can rest assured that Martha Tinsdale will be running for mayor once again!"

"I look forward to that, Madam Mayor," Kam said.

Martha beamed at this, while Grace and Courtney just giggled.

"Martha," Grace announced, "this is Kam Gunar; professor of Asian History at Haverhill."

"My alma mater," Martha gushed. "And thank you for addressing me by my once and future title!"

With the "once and future" comment, Grace wondered if Martha planned on pulling a sword from a stone. In her own way, Martha was as formidable a woman as Cassie, and if she said she would find a solution, Grace had no doubt that a solution would be found. Then, Abigail would have a run for her money in the next election. That thought truly made Grace smile.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

Cassie set up a new crystal display on the table. She loved crystals and wished that people had a greater appreciation of their positive benefits. Sam certainly did not. Much as she loved Sam, appreciation of alternative and holistic medicine was something he lacked, though he had developed an appreciation for her ability to help others with her treatments, and no longer tried to disprove everything she suggested in that area.

Perhaps that was their great strength: Sam and Cassie had very different beliefs in some areas that were fairly central to who they were as people. They did not believe the same, but they believed in each other and looked past the differences.

As she placed the last crystal onto the display, she stood and smiled, saying, "Hello Stephanie."

Stephanie was unsettled, and her off balanced energy preceded her into the shop. Cassie turned to offer her friend a smile. Whatever it was, she was sure that she could settle Stephanie's jitters.

"Cassie!" Stephanie shook her head and wrung her hands as she made her way into the Bell Book. "Ryan is at it again!"

Cassie shot her friend a puzzled look. "Ryan? What could he possibly be …?"

Stephanie pulled a piece of paper from her purse and placed it on the counter. "Take a look and you'll see."

Cassie went to the counter and picked up the paper. It looked like a screen shot that Stephanie had printed.

"Grand-Mart comes to Middleton." It took a moment for the words to sink. Then, her eyes widened. "They plan to put this in the old Tybanks warehouse. That's …."

"That's the death knell for … almost every small business in Middleton!"

"Death knell?" Cassie wondered if perhaps Stephanie was just being overly dramatic.

"Cassie, they have a Java Shack, a Barnaby's, a Yankee Candle, and a Life-Books!" Stephanie shook with rage. "The first two will kill the bistro, and the last two will kill the Bell, Book & Candle."

"Life Books? I'm not familiar …."

"They're a new chain bookstore that focuses on self-help and self-improvement, as well as best sellers! Cassie, you're the only game in town with books. If they open that Grand-Mart, all your foot traffic will disappear!"

"Surely, our customers …."

"Will not be loyal," Stephanie interjected. "Every time big box stores open in small towns, all those supposedly "loyal" customers leave for cheap prices and one stop shopping. They'll put us under, Cassie." Then she added, "They even have an in-house florist! They'll put Abigail out of business too."

Unfortunately, Stephanie was right. Cassie had read all of the stories and statistics about big box stores coming to small towns. And a Grand-Mart … this really would be devastating to Middleton's local businesses. She felt completely blindsided … just like the last time Ryan got involved with Jones's real estate deals.

"But … why would Ryan do that?" Cassie tried to put the pieces together. "Ryan … loves Middleton. He agonized over the thought that I would lose my store, and he … he loves the Bistro."

Stephanie shook her head in disbelief. "I don't understand why he would do this to … something he loves."

"Maybe …" Cassie realized as she spoke, "maybe it's not him."

Stephanie looked at Cassie with befuddlement. "I don't understand."

"Well, Ryan ended up going back to work with Jones," Cassie explained. "Jones has him working closely with his daughter, Frankie. The two of them have Ryan's ear twenty-four/seven."

"Yeah," Stephanie huffed. "They say, 'jump,' he says, 'how high?' No wonder you dumped him for Sam."

Cassie shot Stephanie a disapproving smile. "It wasn't like that. Ryan … really pushed me … tried to get me to see things that weren't there. Ryan was in love with me … and he wanted me to feel the same. He wanted it so badly that he convinced himself that I did … but that I just couldn't see it."

"You don't think he's doing this to get back at you … do you?"

Cassie shook her head. "I can't see that. I can't think that of him."

Ryan was many things, but vindictive had never been one of them. The thought that Ryan could turn on her in such a way that others' livelihoods would be destroyed sent a chill through her. Ryan had been her rock through Jake's death. He had been the friend she needed. Cassie had told him time and again that she was not ready to date. Ryan never heard her.

Was their friendship based entirely on Ryan's infatuation with her? Had it all been just an elaborate rebound for him?

The answer did not matter. This had to be stopped, and the only person she could think of who could stop it … was Ryan.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

Middleton. The images on the computer monitor looked so idyllic. Everyone looked happy. Nick Gunar stared at the smiling image of Mayor Abigail Pershing against the backdrop of the cozy little town. It was a tourism website for the town, so Nick expected everyone in the pictures to look happy, but his son assured him that Middleton was the real deal.

His son. Gunar laughed. Kam was not really Nick Gunar's son. The young Haverhill professor's father was dead before Nick ever met the boy and his mother, Loki, on an island in the South China Sea in nineteen ninety-four. He had gone to the island with his handpicked team to do a job, never expecting to meet Loki and fall in love.

In fact, Nick had been hired by a company called Nitro-Mine, and he and his team were paid to go to the island and either force the natives to sell to Nitro-Mine or drive them out if they refused. Nick had been personally recommended to the job by his old commanding officer, Colonel Merrick. Nick was down and out at the time, so he took the job. What did he have to lose?

In the end, he lost everything. Lost? No, for the first time in his life, Nick had not lost everything; he sacrificed it for something better.

As it turned out, Nitro-Mine intended to strip mine the island, utterly destroying it in the process – all for bat guano. It sounded insane, but apparently, they could extract nitro-methane from millions of years of built up bird droppings. People who had lived on the island for hundreds of years would be displaced. All for money.

The love of a widowed native woman, Loki, and the encouragement of one of his team, Grace Lashield, helped him to acknowledge the truth that he already knew – it was time to fight for something greater than himself.

Instead of driving out the locals, Nick turned on his employers and sided with the locals to help them keep their land. Half of his team sided with him. The rest joined the reinforcements that Nitro-Mine sent to finish the job.

Nick, Grace, and Jamaal were all that remained of his team in the end, but they triumphed. The locals fought alongside them, and they won. After years as a mercenary and a soldier, always looking for, but never finding peace, Nick Gunar had at last found the tranquility that had long eluded him.

He stayed with Loki and her five-year-old son, Kamnan, marrying her according to the local customs and raising the boy as his own. It was paradise. Nick Gunar and Loki had found their happily ever after.

He should have known better. Happily ever after only existed on the Hallmark Channel.

Seven years later, Nitro-Mine returned. The remnants of the company had been bought by an unscrupulous investment group and this time, there was no pretense of attempting to buy the land. They sent in a much larger force to take the island, and without the aid of his team or any kind of meaningful arsenal, Nick Gunar and the locals were forced to retreat and seek egress from the island. Loki was killed during the fighting and Nick barely escaped with Kamnan and some of the other locals.

A widowed single dad, Nick Gunar returned to Chicago – the very place he was living down and out when Colonel Merrick recruited him. This time, he had a son to raise. Gunar still had a few remaining connections, and he was able to legally adopt the boy and get him U.S. citizenship.

Nick did local security and bodyguard work and put Kamnan through school. The boy proved to be brilliant, and excelled, ultimately being accepted at a small but prominent college, Haverhill. The college was near Middleton, but apart from touring the school with Kamnan, Nick did not take in the local sights. He returned to Chicago. With Kam off at school, Nick poured himself into his work to pay the young man's expenses, even doing some K&R (kidnap and rescue).

Kamnan now had a doctorate in Asian history and had returned to Haverhill to become a professor. With the work of raising the boy done, what was there for him to do? His son still needed him – that would not change – but he no longer needed Nick as a parent to take care of him. Kamnan needed a supportive parent who could serve more as a mentor … but Nick had no idea how to be a professional mentor to his adult son. Kamnan was a college professor now, while Nick was … what Nick Gunar had always been: a man of war.

Nick was tired of fighting. He was tired of being the soldier. He was sixty-one, and the life of a bodyguard and K&R work were vocations for the young. Nick was not even young at heart. For seven blissful years, he was able to leave that life behind. Then Loki's death pulled him right back into it – it was the only life he knew, but it was a life he could no longer live.

Middleton.

Kam wanted so badly for his father to live there. There was a reservation at a B&B called Grey House waiting for him, courtesy of Kam. He resolved to go – it would make his son happy – but what then? If he was going to make a life in Middleton, he would need to find work. But what kind of work would Middleton have for a man of war?

He idly clicked on the "Jobs in Middleton" link, and to his surprise, the small town's police department had an opening. It seemed that the department was bidding farewell to Officer Jan Thompkins, wishing her well in her move to the Chicago PD.

"Barney Fief could do this job," Nick said with a chuckle.

In spite of his age, he was still in fantastic shape. Nick looked at the photo of Chief Derek Sanders and Lieutenant Brandon Russell. The chief looked like he belonged in a police comedy, and Brandon looked like he was barely out of high school … or maybe Nick was just old; he could no longer tell. Nick Gunar was probably more durable and able to handle himself than anyone on the small town's force.

"Why not?"

He filled out the online application, attached his resume, and hit the send button. If the department was willing to give him a shot, he thought maybe, just maybe, he could make a life in the idyllic little town with the smiling mayor.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

Doctor Sam Radford walked to the lobby with his last patient, the one and only Martha Tinsdale. Martha was on about … something. Sam had tuned her out a while ago. When Martha was on a mission, she was single-minded and forceful. When she was not, the former mayor was a font of useless gossip and rambling declarations that carried little or no meaning to anyone but her.

"I'm sure it will all work out, Martha," he assured.

"Doctor Radford, have you even been listening to me?" Martha glared at him indignantly.

"Oh, yes, Martha – how could I not?"

"Oh," she sighed, "I don't see how it possibly could. Now that I live in … Blairsville …." She practically spat the name of Middleton's rival town.

"You'll find an answer, Martha," Sam assured. "You always do."

She smiled. "I do, don't I?"

"Every time."

"Oh, thank you, Doctor Radford! You're so supportive – no wonder Cassie is so taken with you. Well, I must carry on. Ta-ta!"

"Just be careful, Martha – that knee of yours is still a bit tender.

"Of course, of course," she replied. Before she could say more, however, the front door to Sam's lobby opened.

Cassie stood in the door, and a look of anxiety cast a shadow over the woman's beautiful visage.

"Sam …." It was all she said. It was all she needed to say.

Sam went to her and took her in his arms. "Cassie, what's wrong?"

"Oh, Sam … I just learned from Stephanie that a Grand-Mart is coming to Middleton," Cassie explained. "It kind of came out of nowhere. I tried calling Ryan – he's the one spearheading it – but I can't get through. It just goes straight to voicemail. It may not seem like much, but I have a terrible feeling about this."

"A Grand-Mart?" Martha half asked, half exclaimed. "Why, that would put half the local businesses in Middleton out of business!"

"I'm sure Abigail can keep this from happening," Sam assured. "She is the mayor after all, and she's a shopkeeper too."

"Indeed," Martha interjected. "Abigail needs to put the kybosh on this! Toot sweet!"

"That's just it, Martha," Cassie sighed in frustration. "Abigail is firmly against it, but Jones has spent the past year wooing the town council. It seems that money talks and keeps them from talking – they're practically ready to let this happen, and they've gone to great lengths to keep his plans from Middleton's business leaders and from Abigail. We're both Merriwick's Sam … and we were both blindsided."

"Why would Ryan do this?" Sam shook his head. "Didn't he fight Jones on doing this exact same thing a couple years back?"

"I'm afraid we don't really know Ryan anymore, Sam. I have some connections." Then she smiled. "And I'm sure that with the help of two former mayors, Abigail can put a stop to this."

"Oh, Cassie," Martha said with a smile, pleased to be included.

Sam smiled approvingly. Martha was a strong woman, one of the strongest he knew … and Cassie had just given her a mission.

"Well between the two of you, they don't stand a chance," Sam assured. "I'll do some digging too and see what I can options I can turn up."

"Thank you, Sam," Cassie said, hugging him once more and kissing him. "Anything will help."

"In the meantime," Martha declared, "I will contact the local business owners and we will gather to strategize!" As she began to walk out the door, she called back, "Come, Cassie! We have work to do!"

"You'd better go with her, Cassie," Sam said with a resigned grin. "Martha's on a mission."

"Yes, but she'll need more than just determination." She kissed him again. "Thank you, Sam."

"For what?"

"I knew that if I came here, I would know what to do next – and now I do." Cassie smiled that beautiful smile that lit up Sam's world. "Good bye, Sam. I love you."

He kissed her and said, "I love you too, Cassie. I'll see you at dinner?"

"Yes. I also have two guests due in late this afternoon – one of them is the father of a Haverhill Professor."

"I'll look forward to it. In the meantime, I'll see what I can dig up about this Grand-Mart."

"Thank you, Sam!"

With that, Cassie walked out the door. Sam allowed his gaze to linger on his fiancée's graceful figure as she left.

Once Cassie was gone, however, his smile turned to a frown and his brow furrowed. Eve walked over and joined him as the door closed behind Cassie.

"They have a clinic in there too," the receptionist noted.

"And an eyeglass store," Sam added. "I probably won't be affected – my regulars would likely stay loyal. Even if they didn't, being the chief of staff at the hospital, I'm not in such a precarious position. Doctor Sterling down the street, though, she won't be able to compete with Grand-Mart on prices for glasses. They'll put her under."

"If your practice can't stay open, Doctor Radford, what will I do?"

"My recommendation will net you a job anywhere. Heck, I could probably find you a position at the hospital. But not everyone is so fortunate. We need to get this resolved. I'm just not sure if Abigail will be able to stop it, even with Cassie and Martha's help."

Sam looked out at the town. He could see the Bistro and Abigail's Flower Market from his front door. The Bell Book & Candle was not in his field of vision, but he thought about Cassie's shop. Then there were the various little boutiques, a toy store, greengrocer, sporting goods, and other specialty shops whose services would all be mimicked in the Grand-Mart.

Sam was a man who never let go of a problem. Cassie would do her part, and whatever part that was, it would be crucial. But for Sam, Middleton had just become his patient, and there was no way he would let this patient die on the table.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

Brandon brought the squad car to a stop in front of Harvey's Hardware store, its siren making one final authoritative blare as he shut off the car. He and Officer Jan Thompkins practically leapt from the cruiser, guns drawn.

They were responding to a two-eleven in progress, the fourth this month. They went in with caution, though by the time they got there, Brandon suspected that the robbers were gone. Still, his father died responding to a two-eleven in progress very similar to this one.

"Police," Brandon called, careful to stand away from the glass front door.

"They're gone," Harvey called from inside.

Brandon and Jan went inside and found Harvey half sitting, half lying on the floor, leaning against his counter. The left side of his face was swollen, the eye already beginning to darken. The hardware store owner had always presented himself as a rough and tumble DIY guy, always wearing flannels and sporting a thick beard. The man lying on the floor was but a shell of the man Brandon knew.

Harvey just cried as he lay on the floor of his shop. There was no pretense of masculine toughness – just a middle aged, slightly overweight man no taller than Brandon laying on the floor, beaten down by an armed assailant.

The two officers knelt to aid the sobbing Harvey.

"He pistol-whipped me," the shopkeeper cried. "I let them take all the money, and the big one … he just kept hitting me …."

"Did you see what they looked like?" Jan asked.

Harvey shook his head. "They wore ski masks."

"Were they both armed?" Brandon asked.

Harvey nodded at this but said nothing.

"Was one about five eight and the other about six feet?" Jan asked.

Harvey nodded again as they helped him to his feet.

"We'll call you an ambulance …." Brandon began but Harvey cut him off.

"No – I want to go to Doctor Radford."

"Sure, Harvey" Jan said.

"Don't worry, Harvey," Brandon assured, "we'll find them."

"Just … just keep them away from me."

Brandon and Jan nodded. There was nothing more for them to say. They stepped outside, to discuss the crime.

"Same two guys," Brandon declared. "Gotta be. Same M.O, same description."

"Quick smash and grab," Jan agreed. "And beat up anyone who gets in their way."

"We're lucky they haven't shot anyone yet," Brandon noted. "Clearly, they're violent – and It's not just the larger one who beats on people either."

"Fourth two-eleven this month," Jan noted. "By Middleton standards …."

"It's a crimewave," Brandon finished.

"Lucky me," Jan observed sarcastically. "I'm finally leaving for the Chicago PD, and we start having gunplay in Middleton."

"We need to catch theses guys before someone gets seriously hurt." Brandon looked in through the front door at Harvey. The poor guy looked like he was about to collapse to the floor again, curl up in a fetal position, and just cry.

 **GW**

Derek sat at an outdoor table at the Bistro nursing a cup of coffee. They thought the three robberies earlier in the month had been the work of two perpetrators who were just passing through and that the storm had passed. Clearly, this was not the case. On top of that, he was about to lose a good officer to the Chicago PD and her replacement was likely to be a young rookie. People with experience tended to go to larger towns where the pay was better.

He had his tablet on the table next to his coffee and reviewed the resume he had just received over the internet. Nick Gunar. Unlike the batch of resumes from young hopefuls, this man had experience – lots of experience – maybe too much experience. He read through what looked to be over forty years of experience. While none of it was law enforcement, it was all relevant experience; special forces, mercenary work, K&R, security, and body guard duty.

The Swedish born Gunar had come to the United States in his teens, joined the Army and became a Green Beret. After that, had actually fought in Angola as a mercenary – all in the nineteen seventies! It took Derek a few moments using Google to even figure out that Angola was located in Africa.

After that was a long list of mercenary work, time in the French Foreign Legion, and a return to the United States Army later in the eighties. He fought in Desert Shield and Desert Storm, got out in nineteen ninety-two, and then returned to Mercenary work in nineteen ninety-four. Brandon was not even alive in nineteen ninety-four!

Derek scratched his head, idly wondering if resumes longer than six pages were the norm back then. What would he do with this guy? Why was this guy even applying? He had to be pushing sixty. Admittedly, Middleton was an easy enough town that Gunar's age would probably not prevent him from doing the job, but it seemed odd that this man of war would even be interested in Middleton, much less wanting to join its police force.

"Looking at Nick Gunar's resume?" Grace Russell peered over the tablet at Derek, her winsome smile and knowledge of this old mercenary catching him off guard.

"How do you know about him, Grace?"

"He's Professor Kam Gunar's dad," the Merriwick girl explained. "Kam's a professor at Haverhill, and he wants his dad to move here from Chicago. I told him I'd do whatever I could to help."

If Grace was here to "help," that meant that Cassie probably sent her, If Cassie had sent Grace as he assumed, then Derek knew better than to say no. Middleton's resident enchantress was rarely mistaken about anything, and her judge of character was the best Derek had ever seen. Cassie had uncanny insight, and if she was in favor of hiring Nick Gunar, then who was Derek to say no?

"Okay," he declared as he set down his tablet and smiled. "I'll ask him to come in for an interview."

Grace gasped in surprise. "Oh, thank you!"

Derek grinned and gave her a thumbs-up.

"Kam will be so happy!"

Grace sauntered off, leaving Derek feeling happy about how things ended up … though he could not quite figure out why.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

Cassie sat with Sam on the love seat in the living room of Grey House, waiting for her guests to arrive.

He had just finished telling her about treating Harvey, the owner of the hardware store, for minor injuries after the store was robbed. Brandon and Jan had been the responding officers. Apparently, the perpetrators pummeled Harvey into submission before robbing the place, and then pistol whipped him and pummeled him some more. Harvey had refused the ambulance ride in favor being treated by Sam.

Cassie shook her head. "Sam, this … this is terrible! That poor man …."

"And he's not the only one," Sam noted. "The same two men have hit three other shops in Middleton this month, treating the clerks the same as they treated Harvey. I feel like I should just have icepacks and aspirin in the waiting room."

"Sam … how come I'm just hearing about this?"

"Well, we have been busy with wedding preparations, and you were visiting Olympia in Chicago at the beginning of the month. A lot can happen during a week away, and the first three robberies happened while you were gone."

"But I talked to Brandon on the phone while I was away."

"Cassie, if you're out of town, do you really think he's going to tell you that there's armed gunmen going on a crime spree in Middleton?"

Then she felt the color drain from her face. "Sam, if he had gotten to the hardware store just a few minutes earlier, he could have been shot at … or … shot!"

"But he wasn't," Sam reminded her. "I'm going to give you some of your own advice; don't worry yourself over what might have happened if."

She nodded. Normally, she would not worry over the 'could haves,' but Jake died in the line of duty doing much the same thing that Brandon was doing now.

"Well, I saw Brandon earlier this week. I'd think he'd have said something …."

"Cassie, Brandon doesn't want you to worry." Sam squeezed her hand. "Nothing had happened for almost two weeks. He probably would have mentioned it, but after a week of quiet, they probably thought it was over. Besides, weren't you two talking about his relationship with Tara?"

"I know, Sam, but …."

Cassie felt her heartrate rising and struggled to calm herself. She was certain that had it been anyone else in the room, they would not have realized how upset she was … but it was Sam, and he instantly knew that she was practically beside herself.

He pulled her close and enfolded her in his arms, and she began to calm. It was the same with Jake. She paused in her thoughts to be thankful to have once-in-a-lifetime twice in Jake and Sam.

"What will we do, Sam? Should I maybe close the shop earlier? And Tara …."

"They're hitting during the day, likely taking advantage of the small police force in Middleton – nobody right on hand to chase them. Maybe I should check in and visit you a little more frequently?"

She purred at that thought. Suddenly, a strong feeling of positivity washed over her. This would all be alright. Brandon would be safe, and there would be no more shopkeepers and clerks beaten at the hands of these robbers.

"I'm always happy to see you at the Bell Book, Sam. Just as long as it doesn't take you away from your patients."

"Cassie, you're my priority. You, Nick, and Grace come first. Besides, you know I enjoy going to see you at the Bell Book as much as you love me to visit."

"Then it's settled," she said, flashing him a smile. "I'll make sure to have some extra special treats waiting for you when you get there."

"You mean besides your eyes and smile?"

Cassie responded with a passionate kiss.

It was one of those perfect moments that she loved with Sam, a moment in which she felt completely loved. Cassie wanted that moment to last forever. But it was interrupted by the doorbell.

Cassie leaned back, smiled, and said, "Grace."

"Grace … but she's not even in the house yet," Sam protested. "How could you possibly …."

"Not that Grace," Cassie said as she stood and went to the door. "One of my afternoon guests I was telling you about."

George was making his way down the stairs to help with the guest's luggage. He reached the foyer as Cassie reached the door. She opened the door, a broad smile upon her face.

"Welcome to Grey … House …."

"Cassie," George exclaimed, "there's … two of you!"

"Apparently so," replied the guest.

Upon hearing Cassie's voice trail off and George's expression of shock, Sam stood from his seat and went to join his fiancée at the front door. As soon as he made it to Cassie's side, he understood the confusion.

Standing in the doorway wearing black fatigues and carrying a rucksack was a tall woman with long dark hair pulled into a ponytail. Atop her head was a black military style cap, and Sam was certain that the woman was armed. But it was not her garb or her gear that had so captured George and Cassie's attention. No, it was the woman herself.

Every curve of her face and body was familiar to Sam. The woman's eyes, the curve of her lips, and even the bemused but puzzled facial expression were all familiar.

She looked exactly like Cassie.

"Ah, Doctor Sam Radford," the woman said with a smile, her voice rough and gravely, but still similar to Cassie's. She reached into her pocket and pulled out the Grey House medallion Cassie had given him over the summer – the medallion that he had needed to use for Rosa's saline IV. "I believe this belongs to you."

Suddenly, he made the connection. "You were in Colombia working with the evacuation efforts! I knew I wasn't hallucinating." He took the medallion and held it lovingly. "I thought I'd lost this."

"You said you'd used it for a woman's I.V," Cassie said, still puzzled.

"He did," the woman said. "Her daughter, Maria, asked me to see it returned to the doctor who helped her family so much. Whatever I was expecting when I came to Grey House, an identical twin was not it."

"The resemblance is uncanny," Sam noted.

"Downright spooky," George corrected.

"I think it's amazing," Cassie said with a smile. Now that the initial shock had worn off, she seemed to have regained her composure. "And you were there, watching over my Sam."

"Grace Lashield," the woman said, extending her right hand.

Cassie took Grace Lashield's hand and shook it. "Cassie Nightingale."

"And your fiancé was watching over us, not the other way around," Grace corrected. "Never seen anyone so dedicated or so caring. You've got a good man, Cassie Nightingale."

"Well, Grace Lashield, won't you come in?"

Cassie stepped back as a woman who looked like she just stepped out of an action movie walked through the front door of Grey House. George offered to take her bag, but Grace Lashield smiled and shook her head.

"Might be a bit heavy for you, old man."

Sam chuckled while George grimaced.

Cassie could hardly believe what she was seeing. This woman was like an identical twin, but her energy was different from anyone Cassie had ever met. She idly wondered if Grace Lashield might also be a Merriwick.

Cassie had a lot of old paperwork, journals, and stuff in the attic and basement of Grey House and had done a fair amount of research herself. What would she learn about Grace Lashield? Was she indeed a Merriwick? Or did she just have an uncanny resemblance to Cassie Nightingale?


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

Nick was on his way to Grey House, walking with a spring in his step. He was on his way back from the Botanical gardens where he had spent the afternoon with Katie and looked forward to the pastries and treats that he knew Cassie would have on hand. Besides, his father would probably be there, so he could put in the obligatory appearance, say hello to his future step-mom, and check in with his dad.

"Hey, Nick." It was Grace, who hurriedly joined him in his walk home. "You look happy."

"Any reason why I wouldn't be?"

Grace giggled. "None that I can think of. How did Katie like the Botanical Gardens?"

"She loved it," Nick replied. "We were checking out the Middleton Merriwick when – hey, wait a minute! How did you know?"

Grace flashed him a very Cassie-like grin, and for a moment, Nick thought she was going to say that she had a feeling. Instead, Grace pulled her phone from her purse and gave him a response that was more Sam Radford than Cassie Nightingale.

"Easy; Katie and I are friends on Facebook." Holding up her phone, Grace continued. "She checked in at the Botanical Gardens with Nick Radford. It came up in my feed."

Nick offered Grace a subdued smile. "Yeah, I was with her at the Gardens."

"So, was the Merriwick in bloom?"

"No – isn't that more of a spring thing?"

"I suppose," Grace replied, now sounding more like Cassie. "But with a Merriwick in Middleton, you never know."

Nick chuckled at Grace's 'Merriwick' logic. Unlike his father, Nick was not the eternal skeptic. Cassie had a magic about her. There was no other way for him to describe it. She was like a Jedi, but without the martial arts, lightsabers, and celibacy vows. Grace had it too, though she was not quite so gifted as Cassie. Certainly, Cassie's magic had changed his father. It had also helped his mother to see things clearly and helped Nick to see things clearly on many occasions as well.

"I wish I'd treated you better when we first met."

Grace looked at him with befuddlement. "Not that I disagree – I wish you had too – but where is this coming from all of the sudden?"

He shrugged and offered her a sheepish smile. "Just thought it was time to say it, that's all. I mean, you're going to be my sister and all …."

Grace nodded, pondering his words momentarily as they walked. She had a particular expression when she was pondering. So too did Cassie. It was the same expression.

Then she smiled. Grace's smile was different from Cassie's. It made Nick wish he had met Jake Russell so he could see how much of the late police chief was in Grace. It was easy to see Grace as Cassie's mini-me, but that would ignore the girl's uniqueness. There were things about Grace that were nothing like her mother, things that made her distinctly Grace.

One of those things was that Grace was a bit of a detective. She had a tenacity that reminded him of his father. When Grace got a hold of a mystery, like the puzzle of Martha Tinsdale's ancestor Douglas Endicott, she did not let go until she had an answer. It reminded him so much of his father.

"Grace, do you think your dad was what my dad would have been like if he'd been a cop?"

"That's a weird question." Grace put on her pondering face again. "In some ways … but their personalities were really different. My dad was … quiet, reserved. He was more introspective I think than Sam. Your dad … he's a man of action. The one common trait I see is that they care very deeply about other people. My dad was more contemplative, while yours is very out in the open. That, and they both grab hold of problems and won't let go until they figure it out. Sam may not be a cop, but I think if he was, he'd be a good one."

"You kind of remind me of my dad," Nick noted. Then he quickly added, "In all the good ways."

"Yeah," Grace agreed. "I don't do the dad-jokes." Then she looked at Nick for a moment and said, "Actually, you remind me a bit of my dad."

"Really?" Nick found that hard to believe.

"Yeah. He was very introspective like you, kind of quiet. He didn't have that moody broody thing that you do …"

Nick laughed at that observation.

"But he had a quiet intensity like you. I think that's what attracted Katie to you."

"That, and lots of man-hours spent decorating for the dance," Nick reminded her.

Grace giggled, nodding. "Yes, that did make a huge difference."

By now, they were walking up the steps to the front door or Grey House. Nick opened the door for Grace, but suddenly, she stopped and stood, a look similar to her pondering expression, but this look was different. She was puzzled, confused.

"Grace? You okay?"

"Yeah … just … something's not right. Not bad … but not right. Come on; we need to get to the bottom of this."

Grace hurried inside, Nick following. He hoped that Grace was not about to experience some gut-wrenching heartbreak or major life complication. He still had trouble interpreting Grace's gift and was glad to be along with her for this.

They hurried into the kitchen, expecting to find Cassie in the early stages of preparing the evening meal, Nick's dad either helping her or just keeping her company. What they saw instead made them both stop and do a double-take.

"Mom?" Grace's jaw dropped and her eyes were as wide as saucers.

"Cassie?" Nick had more of a bemused grin. This was different. Really different.

Standing in the kitchen was the form and figure of Cassie Nightingale, cracking open a can of Miller Genuine Draft – but it was Cassie as Nick – and apparently Grace – had never seen her before.

"I was just getting ready to kick back in the … whatever you call it with all the books."

Cassie wore not one of her usual flowing dresses or casual outfits, but black paramilitary gear with a pistol nestled in a holster at her right hip. Her hair was pulled back into a ponytail and her voice sounded gruff.

"Mom! That's … that's a gun!"

"Looking rugged, Cassie," Nick said approvingly. "Never thought you could pull off the action hero look, but you really rock it."

"Thanks, kid," Cassie replied.

"Mom!" Grace shook her head vigorously. "Have you taken leave of your senses? You're walking around Grey House armed!"

Cassie took a deep swig from the beer can and set it on the table. "Open carry state, kid. And I'm not your mom."

"See?" Nick looked at Grace reassuringly. "Not your mom." He was starting to wonder of maybe Cassie had banged her head and developed a second personality.

"I think your mom's out back with Doctor Radford," not-Cassie explained. "The name's Grace; Grace Lashield. And you must be Grace Russell and Nick Radford."

"Oh, hi, Grace! I didn't see you come in." This time, it was Cassie – the real Cassie. "Hey, Nick. This is Grace Lashield. She worked with your dad down in Colombia back in the spring."

Cassie began busying herself in the kitchen as Sam came into the room.

"Hey, Nick. Cassie has a mission for me. Want to come along?"

"I'm out of potatoes and some other ingredients." Cassie kissed Sam's cheek. "Your dad has kindly volunteered to go get it for me."

Cassie and Sam looked radiantly happy together. Nick could not help but be happy for them. But they were not getting rid of Nick Radford that easily. This was way too interesting for him to duck out now.

"But … you might need my help in the kitchen," Nick offered.

Cassie grinned, walked to the counter, and picked up a basket that resided by the stove. "But I packed these for you to take with you."

She handed Nick the basket which was filled with cupcakes – chocolate with chocolate frosting – brownies, and other baked treats.

Score!

Nick nodded while offering Cassie a satisfied grin. "Thanks, Cassie. I'll make sure dad doesn't get lost on the way."  
"Fat chance of that," Sam said as he put on his sport jacket. "Apple Car-Play. Come on, Nick."

"See you, Cassie," Nick called as he left with his father."

Cassie waved good bye, but before he was out the door, Nick called back.

"Hey, Grace – the tall expendables looking Grace – if you like beer, you should check out the microbrew. We know the owner – top shelf."

Cassie's paramilitary doppelganger offered a crooked smile and a nod. "Thanks, Nick. I just might do that."


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

Tara was about to go for a dinner break when a car pulled up in front of the Bell Book, screeching to a stop. Two men in ski masks, guns drawn jumped out. It was the Middleton Bandits as they had come to be called. Her life flashed before her eyes as the gunmen approached. She locked the door and was backing up when she heard the siren. It was Brandon. She could see his squad car pull up abruptly, boxing in the robbers' car, a white Subaru Forrester.

Brandon opened the driver's door of the squad car and took partial cover behind it, pointing his service pistol at them, shouting, "Police! Freeze!"

His partner, Officer Jill Thompkins, took cover behind the squad car's right front fender, pointing her weapon at the two robbers.

The Middleton Bandits immediately began firing, prompting Brandon and Jill to duck down as they attempted to return fire. Tara shrieked as she watched helplessly while her husband was being fired upon. Brandon had never faced any criminals like this during his brief career as a police officer. Even Jake's killer had not been the kind of threat posed by these two men.

The robbers continued firing, moving out into the street. As a passing car approached, one of them stepped into the street and pointed his gun at the windshield. The car stopped, and the smaller one went to the driver's door as his partner in crime gave him cover fire, keeping Brandon and Jill pinned down.

The smaller man pulled the driver, a middle-aged man, out from behind the wheel and tossed him roughly to the ground. Commandeering the car, the robber drove it forward and allowed his partner to get in on the passenger side.

As they sped off, Brandon and Jill fired at the stolen car – a black Mercedes. The larger robber returned fire from the getaway car's passenger side window, striking Jill in the upper left chest, blood spraying as the bullet exited her back. The stricken officer cried out as she fell to the ground.

"Shots fired! Officer down! Officer down!" Brandon's shouts into his radio were loud enough that Tara could hear him clearly from inside the Bell Book. "Requesting an ambulance!"

The black Mercedes sped off leaving a possibly dead Officer Thompkins and a carjacking victim in the street.

"I'm still here," Jill's voice cried faintly from the other side of the police cruiser.

Tara breathed a deep sigh of relief, and then went outside. "Brandon!"

"Tara, stay inside!" Brandon allowed her to quickly embrace him before sending her back into the building.

She did as her husband directed but continued to watch from the front window. Then, she saw the carjacking victim stand up looking dazed and confused, as Brandon went to Jill's side. The man was none other than Cassie's old friend, Ryan Elliot.

 **GW**

As his father drove. Nick was absorbed texting with Katie. Suddenly, he heard two loud popping sounds. It sounded like gunfire.

"Dad, did you hear that?"

His father nodded as he drove, taking a left turn. "Sounded like gunfire."

Suddenly, Sam had to swerve sharply as a black Mercedes flew past them, partially on their side of the road. Nick was fixated on the drivers of the black car, and for a brief fraction of a second, he and the driver made eye contact. The driver and his passenger wore ski masks. It was the Middleton Bandits.

Nick felt the Jeep speed up as his father depressed the accelerator sharply.

"Dad?"

"Shots were fired," Sam noted. "We'll be there before an ambulance."

Nick just nodded as Sam sped to the scene. It did not take long to find – Brandon knelt on the ground next to a down officer – Jill Thompkins if he recalled – and Ryan Elliot stood by, looking like he wanted to help, but having no idea what to do.

Sam Radford parked the car and jumped out, Nick racing to keep up.

"Nick, go into the Bell Book and check on Tara while I take care of Officer Thompkins!"

Nick nodded and did at his father bid. Then Tara burst forth from the Bell Book and ran to Brandon's side.

"Doctor Radford," Brandon called. "Thank God you're here!"

Nick stood with Tara and Ryan and watched as Sam got to work. Clearly, Doctor Sam Radford knew what to do – Nick would have been surprised if his father did not, but Nick had rarely seen his father in action outside of a hospital setting, and then it was usually treating sick patients or people with injuries from falls or sports accidents. A gunshot wound was totally out of Nick's experience, but given that Sam Radford was a trauma surgeon, he imagined that his father had treated shooting victims more than a few times.

"Chest wound," Doctor Radford declared. "Missed the heart … looks like it missed her lung … but it went clean through and she's bleeding badly. Nasty exit wound too. I'm more concerned with the bone fragments from the bullet's passage, which may have caused more internal damage."

"I … I feel faint," Jill said groggily. "Am I gonna …."

"Make it?" Sam smiled and nodded. "You have my word."

Nick watched as his father directed Brandon and made use of what he had on hand, which was not much, to keep the woman alive until the ambulance arrived. His father was so cool under pressure. It was like Sam Radford found his Zen in treating gravely wounded patients. For the first time, Nick regarded his father's profession with amazement.

The ambulance pulled up, along with another squad car. Chief Derek Sanders jumped out and ran to Brandon and Jill.

"Brandon!" Derek appraised the situation as the EMTs came over to take charge of Jill.

"She'll be alright," Sam assured. "Nick, I need you to take care of Cassie's shopping list. I'll ride with Officer Thompkins. I'll call ahead to the hospital and get an O.R. prepped." He then tossed the keys to his Jeep to his son.

"Sure thing, Dad," Nick assured as he caught the keys.

Brandon stood, but he shook. All the color had drained from him, and he looked like he might faint.

"Brandon?" Tara went to him. "You okay?"

"I've never been in a gunfight," the young officer confessed. "I … I've never even had to fire my gun except at the range. I've never been so scared in my life."

"Cassie's gonna freak when she hears about this," Derek exclaimed, his eyes wide.

"Not just Cassie," Tara reminded him. "Grace and Lori …."

"Yeah," Brandon said as Sam left with Jill and the Paramedics. "Grace is really gonna freak."

"Well, we have their car," Derek noted. "Once we run tags …."

"I'm betting that's Hattie Berman's car," Brandon said. "It was reported stolen yesterday. Same make and model, and I bet that once you run the tags, it'll come up as hers."

"That's one crime solved." Derek said with satisfaction."

"What about my car?" Ryan finally spoke up.

"We'll do what we can," Derek assured. "I've got an APB out on them. They won't get far."

"That's the problem," Brandon interjected. "They don't seem interested in getting far. They're staying around here because we're easy pickings. And we weren't expecting to lose Jill for another two weeks. Now, by the time she's recovered, she'll be off to Chicago, and we still don't have a replacement."

"Actually, I'm interviewing someone tomorrow," Derek revealed. "He's a piece of work, but he might be just what we need."

Brandon suddenly remembered. "Derek, is this that old guy with the twenty-page resume?"

"Ten," Derek corrected. "And yes, it is. But Grace says she has a feeling about him, so …."

"You know Grace isn't Cassie," Ryan reminded him.

"Yeah, but Grace has good instincts about people," Nick interjected. "If Grace has a good feeling about him, I'd listen."

Brandon nodded, but Ryan made a scoffing sound.

Derek then looked at the realtor and folded his arms across his chest. "What was that Ryan?"

"Well," the realtor said, shifting nervously now that all eyes were upon him. "Grace is just a kid. Sometimes …."

"Sometimes that kid has great instincts," Tara finished. "Just like her mother."

"Coming from the guy that's about to cost half of Middleton's small businesses their livelihood," Derek said sardonically, "I think I'll put my faith in Grace's instincts instead of your dismissals."

Ryan opened his mouth, but Brandon held up his hand.

"Stop, Ryan. Just stop! I'm glad you're okay, and we'll do all we can to get your car back, but don't come around here shooting your mouth off like you're one of us; you're not!"

"I grew up here," the realtor protested.

"Yeah, then you went off to work with Jones," Nick noted. "And now, you're helping him put in a Grand Mart."

"Grand Marts are hugely popular," Ryan insisted. "Everyone will love it!"

"Not everyone," Nick corrected. "The people whose shops go under probably won't be happy. But hey, I'm just some kid from New York, so ..." he shrugged flashing his crooked smile, "what do I know?"

Ryan looked from Nick to Brandon to Tara to Derek, desperately seeking an ally, but everyone just glared at him. Nick actually felt sorry for him. It was not as though Ryan was doing this maliciously; he was a realtor, and he was just trying to do his job the best he could. It seemed that Ryan often had blinders on until the truth was pointed out to him by Cassie … but that was not going to happen this time.

Cassie had rejected Ryan in favor of Sam, and though they may have smoothed things over, Nick knew that heartbreak did not go away overnight. Ryan would not spend enough time with Cassie to hear what she had to say.

Nick was more concerned for the well being of the people of Middleton, himself included. So far, these robbers were bold, striking in broad daylight, and they were not the least bit hesitant to use their weapons. This was way out of Brandon's league. Derek's too. It probably was out of Jake's league, but not having met the late police chief, Nick could not really say.

He just hoped that these men would either move on or slip up and get caught before anyone else got hurt.

 **GW**

Grace sat at the kitchen table while her mom cooked dinner when the phone rang. Grace could not help but smile as her mother's face split into a grin. Cassie Nightingale clearly already knew who it was as she answered.

"Hello Sam. You and Nick having trouble finding the …."

Suddenly, her mother's face drained of color and her body went rigid.

"Sam … is she going to be …."

Cassie listened as Sam spoke, and then nodded.

"What about Brandon and Tara?" The Merriwick matriarch nodded as she listened, seeming relieved. "Thank you, Sam. Do what you can. Call me as soon as you know." She nodded again. "I love you too."

"Mom?" Grace went to her mother's side. "Is everything alright?"

"The Middleton Bandits were about to rob the Bell Book when Brandon and his partner showed up," Cassie explained. "They … there was a gunfight."

Grace gasped, her hands going to her mouth. She thought her heart would explode, it was racing so fast.

"Brandon is alright, but his partner – she's badly injured and Sam is about to operate on her now."

"What about Tara?"

"She's okay, Grace … but I almost lost Brandon the way I lost …" Cassie took a deep breath. "Your father."


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

Grace Lashield had found her way to the Middleton Microbrew and sat at the bar doing tequila shots. Middleton. The town was everything she had never had. It was this idyllic little place that could almost be like Heaven. She felt like she had walked into some kind of alternate reality where people did not really suck, and everyone was looking out for everyone else.

She wondered if that could have happened for her and Nolan. Could things have worked out for them? Nick Gunar found his happily ever after. Had things gone differently, could Grace have found hers too? Sadly, the opportunity to find out was taken from them.

She downed another shot, the painful memories refusing to leave her mind's eye.

"Cassie?"

A man took his seat next to her. She had no idea who he was, but clearly, he thought Grace was Cassie Nightingale.

"Go away," she slurred. "I don't want company."

"Cassie … you're drunk!"

"My prerogative, now go away."

The man shook his head, looking at her incredulously. "Is this about Brandon almost getting shot? Believe me, after what you've been through, I understand. But if it's about the Grand-Mart …."

"Are you really that dense?" Grace shook her head. "Hate to disappoint you, but I don't even know who you are, let alone whatever nonsense it is you're whining about."

"Cassie, it's me – Ryan! Are you that drunk?"

"Not yet," Grace replied, "but I'm working on it."

"Cassie …."

"I'm not Cassie, and we've never met." Grace downed a sixth shot. "Now, scram before I decide you're harassing me and do something about it."

Ryan backed away and presumably left – Grace did not bother to see if he actually left the building or just sat elsewhere. She looked back at the bartender.

"Hit me again – seven's my lucky number."

"Sorry ma'am," the African American man behind the bar replied, "but I think I need to cut you off. If you need a ride, I can call an Uber or Lyft for you, but I can't let you drive."

Grace made a scoffing sound and shook her head, a mirthless smile on her face.

"No, I don't suppose you can."

She contemplated taking him up on the ride, but then a shrill voice caught her attention, calling out that name again.

"Cassie!"

Grace's shoulders slumped. It seemed like everyone in Middleton knew the owner of Grey House. How could anyone be that popular?

She turned around slowly and saw a shapely blonde woman who looked to be about five foot four, though without heels, Grace estimated her to be about five feet.

"You talkin' to me?"

"Cassie," the woman exclaimed, immediately taking the seat next to Grace. "What is wrong? I've never seen you like this, not even when Jake died!"

"Cassie's probably never been like this," Grace replied, slurring her words. "The name's Grace Lashield. You are?"

"Stephanie – I own the Bistro." Stephanie studied Grace for a moment or two, and then said, "Huh; you really aren't Cassie. But the resemblance …."

"Yeah, separated at birth, I know."

"Were you really?"

Grace laughed. She knew that if she said yes, Stephanie would believe it. She could string Stephanie along with whatever crazy tall tale she felt like telling.

Instead, she mentioned the Bistro. "Cassie recommended your place – the Bistro, that is."

"Where are you staying, Grace Lashield?"

"Grey House. Why?"

"Because you're in no condition to drive. I was just heading home. Would you like a ride?"

Grace nodded. She had had about enough of the bar at this point. "Sure. Why not?"

Stephanie helped the taller Grace to her feet and the two of them left. As they passed Ryan, who had found a table, he stood.

"Stephanie …."

"Do not speak to me," the restauranteur scolded. "We are not friends!"

"But Stephanie …."

"No buts, Ryan – your plans are going to put me under! Me, and half the shops in Middleton!"

"You want me to kick his ass?" Grace offered.

"You're drunk," Ryan scoffed. "Wouldn't be much of a fight."

"Probably not," Grace agreed. "I'm a mean drunk – might actually put you in the hospital."

"Come on," Stephanie directed, pulling Grace along with her. "He's not worth the effort."

Ryan let out a frustrated sigh and Grace giggled at the sight. He was truly pathetic. He reminded her of those two yuppie scum-buckets who ran Nitro-Mine.

"No, he's not."

 **GW**

Cassie sat in the kitchen enjoying a glass of wine. It was late, but she felt as though her presence was needed. Grace and George had both turned in early and Sam was still at the hospital saving Officer Thompkins' life. Dinner had gone well enough – Nick had returned with the things Cassie had asked for, after which, Grace Lashield had called an Uber and headed to the Microbrewery. Cassie's other guest, a Nick Gunar, had not checked in, though she had a feeling that she would see him tomorrow. Now, the day was done, and Cassie remained up. Somebody needed her, and she knew exactly who.

As if on cue, she heard the key turn in the lock on the front door, and then heard the front door open. Stephanie's voice.

"Here we are, Grace. Come on – I see a light in the kitchen. Cassie's up."

Moments later, Stephanie helped a visibly drunk Grace Lashield into the kitchen. Cassie rose and pulled out a chair for the inebriated woman.

"Oh, my," Stephanie gasped. "You two really do look alike!"

"You confused me for Cassie already," Grace slurred. "Of course, we look alike."

Cassie nodded. "Good things come in pairs."

"I found her at the bar," Stephanie said. "Liam's bartender cut her off, and Ryan was acting like jerk, so I gave her a ride back here."

"Thanks, Stephanie," Cassie replied. "I have just the thing."

"Well good," Stephanie said approvingly. "I have to be up early, so I am off to bed. See you at the Bistro tomorrow?"

"On my way to the Bell Book," Cassie confirmed. "See you then."

As soon as Stephanie left, Cassie began boiling water in the kettle. A nice chamomile tea should do the trick, she thought.

"So, Grace, how was the Microbrewery?"

The drunk woman shrugged. "Nice enough. They cut me off before I was finished. One more shot … that might have done it."

"Done what?"

Grace looked down at the table in silence for a few moments, and then the kettle whistled its readiness.

Cassie prepared a cup of chamomile tea for her guest and then placed it before her, taking the seat to Grace's right.

"For you, Grace."

Grace Lashield, in addition to looking like Cassie, was the same age. According to Cassie's daughter, Grace, the two women even shared the same birthday. The two women had so much in common, and yet, could not be more different. While Cassie was happily engaged and looking forward to her second once-in-a-lifetime, Grace Lashield carried a deep sadness in her eyes. She had a lot of miles on her body too – hard miles. While Cassie relied entirely on her intuition, intelligence, and compassion, Grace kept her emotions close and carried a gun.

Grace looked up at Cassie, tears in her eyes. "I was jealous of you, you know? You have this … perfect life in this perfect town. You have a perfect man. I can see it in his eyes, hear it in his voice – he loves you more than life itself."

Cassie nodded. "It hasn't always been so, but right now, I am content."

"You get it," Grace declared. "You … lost someone. Stephanie thought I was you … that I was drunk because of … I don't know why, but she said you weren't like this even when Jake died."

Cassie nodded again, then leaned in close. "You've lost someone too, Grace, haven't you?"

Cassie's look-alike nodded, tears now streaming down her face. The tough-gal façade cracked and fell away, and Grace Lashield began to sob.

"We never had a chance. They … blew his head off right after he kissed me. I watched his head … his blood sprayed all over me!" Now, her eyes were on fire and her face twisted in grief and rage. "They killed him all for fucking money! They killed him 'cause we wouldn't let them just kill the natives! I never got to find out if it would work! All I wanted was just a little happiness. Is that too much to ask?"

"No, it isn't, Grace." Cassie put her arm around the sobbing merc and sat quietly as Grace Lashield cried her eyes out.

Finally, the tears receded, and Grace took a sip of the tea.

"My husband was the police chief here in Middleton," Cassie said. "A man shot him dead after robbing a convenience store." She shook her head, the memory bringing tears to her own eyes. "Jake wasn't even on duty. He was stopping off to pick up Slurpees for the kids. He just … walked into it, and the man killed him."

"That's terrible," Grace said flatly.

"It nearly killed me," Cassie confessed. "But … years passed, and things got better. I found my way, and then, just when I thought I was content having had my once-in-a-lifetime …" Cassie smiled. "I met Sam, and once-in-a-lifetime happened again."

Grace offered a tearful grin. "Thanks for listening. I hate gettin' all maudlin, but …" She downed the tea. "I guess I needed that. Haven't told anyone that since I left the island back in ninety-four."

Cassie gasped. "You've carried that inside for twenty-four years? Oh, Grace." Cassie gave her a hug. "I'm honored that you chose to share that with me. It was deeply personal and could not have been easy."

Cassie's doppelganger smiled back at her. "I couldn't have told that to anyone except maybe Nick Gunar. But you're easy to talk to."

"Nick Gunar?" That got Cassie's attention.

"Yeah." Grace laughed. "The old Swede hired me on for the job – we were supposed persuade the natives to move off an island in the South China Sea. Found out we were workin' for the wrong side and the mission changed to defending the natives. We won, but it was costly. Nick stayed with a native girl named Loki, and her son – Kamnan, I think it was."

Cassie nodded, realizing that this woman's background went well beyond the military or security. She was a gun for hire – a soldier of fortune. The woman looked like she belonged in the cast of the next Expendables movie. This also confirmed that Nick Gunar was the same Nick Gunar that had missed his check-in; Grace Russell had gushed about meeting Kam Gunar earlier the day before. She imagined that Nick Gunar was probably a lot like Grace Lashield – a hardened mercenary.

"I imagine that was a difficult decision on your part."

Grace shook her head. "Not my decision – Gunar made the call. We were all free to leave if we didn't want to join him. Thought he made the right call, so I stayed. Half the team left and came back with reinforcements for the people who originally hired us. Nolan figured out they were scum real fast and switched back to our side." She wiped her eyes again. "They killed him for it. I almost bought it myself."

Cassie nodded again, appreciating the full scope of what happened. "What happened to Nick?"

"Don't know. Still on the island far as I know. Not like there's any cell service there." Grace took a few more sips of the tea.

"What did you do after that?"

"Got real picky," Grace explained. "After seeing Nick stand up for what's right, I couldn't go back to my old life. Did some K and R …."

"K and R?"

"Kidnap and Rescue," Grace explained. "Got into security for relief organizations and stuff like that. Thing is, the good guys usually don't pay all that much and rarely have steady work. Bounced from place to place, guy to guy …" she laughed mirthlessly. "Lots of guys who think no means yes. Tried going from girl to girl …."

Cassie's eyes widened slightly, and then she nodded understanding.

"Yeah." Grace made a scoffing sound. "I met some real prizes doing that too, if you know what I mean."

"I think I do," Cassie replied with a nod.

"Never found what I was looking for. Lot of people happy to use me, but … nobody who really wanted me. Nolan did – he was different. Now, he's dead. Seemed like drinking was the only thing that helped."

Cassie leaned close. "Grace, I think things are about to change for the better. I went through some hard times before I came to Middleton, but I found what I was looking for – twice. Sam was going through a lot when he came here, and he found me. My cousin, Abigail came here, and she found a home too. Now she's the mayor."

The mercenary scoffed. "Really? You think I'm here in Middleton and all my problems will just magically go away? Get real, Cassie – that ain't how life works."

"Middleton is filled with magic," Cassie countered with a smile. "Stick around – you'll see."

Grace looked at her dubiously. "You believe in magic? Really?"

Cassied nodded. "With all my heart, Grace. And I believe something magical will happen for you."

Grace shrugged and offered Cassie a reluctant smile. "If it happens, I won't complain … but I ain't holdin' my breath."

"I promise you won't turn blue."

The two women laughed, and Cassie poured Grace another tea and herself another glass of wine. She pondered the mercenary whose face was a mirror image of her own. Was Grace Lashield a long lost Merriwick? Could she be lost family? If so, this might prove a magical experience for everyone.


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

Brandon walked into the station house, the fate of his partner, Jill Thompkins, still on his mind. Sam had saved her. According to the paramedics, had it not been for Doctor Radford's timely arrival, Jill would probably have died before she ever made it to the hospital. Nick had said that as soon as they heard the gunfire and Ryan's stolen Mercedes blew past them, Sam really stepped on it to get to the scene.

Brandon shook his head, smiling in spite of himself. Sam Radford drove into the crime scene, not away from it, and jumped right in as soon as he arrived. Tara had told him that Sam flew to Colombia in the spring to assist evacuations during the heavy flooding. Sam Radford may not be a policeman, but Brandon was very impressed with the man's courage and selflessness. In a few very important ways, Sam Radford reminded Brandon of his father, the late police chief, Jake Russell.

He talked with Cassie and Grace on the phone last evening, and while Cassie seemed to be fairly calm about the whole thing, he imagined that inside, she was beside herself. For all her intuition, Cassie worried. She knew that her intuition was blind to certain things. Jake was killed, and neither she nor Grace ever saw it coming, and what happened yesterday was a whole level above that. Not only had Brandon been in danger, but so was Tara. Shootouts simply did not happen in Middleton, and a shootout involving Brandon with Tara right nearby had to have terrified her.

"Brandon!" It was Derek.

The police chief walked hastily toward him, more like he was both trying to get to Brandon quickly, and get away from something quickly.

"Hey, Derek. What's going on? The Bandits didn't strike again, did they?"

"No, but we did find Ryan's car – they ditched it, just like you thought they would. And another car has been reported stolen not far from where we found Ryan's car, so …."

"So, they're still in the area," Brandon finished. "Anything other new developments?"

"Yeah; Lori's here," Derek warned.

"Oh …."

"Yeah," Derek agreed. "She's covering the Middleton Bandits for the Eagle. But I have an assignment for you, and you need to do it before you see Lori."

"Oh?" Brandon was not sure he liked the sound of that.

"Yeah. I'm having you interview our applicant, Nick Gunar. If we still like him, then I'll give him a second interview."

"You're not trying to skate out of interviewing him, are you?"

"No … but I thought maybe since I'm grooming you for lieutenant, it would be good to make you part of the hiring process."

Derek was serious, but it did not take Cassie's intuition to know that Derek was also trying to get out of it for some reason.

"Derek, what's going on?"

"Louise will get you the deets."

Brandon looked at Derek with puzzlement. "Deets?"

"Details," Derek explained. "I'm trying to sound more youthful. Is it working?"

"I don't know – maybe?"

"The new receptionist, Louise," Derek explained. "I want to appear professionally aloof, but I also want to be approachable. It's something Cassie's really good at. I'm hoping maybe I can impress her enough to get her to go to dinner with me sometime. I chatted with her a little, but then I got nervous, so I wanted to look like I had something important to do …."

"And if I go to interview Gunar, that occupies her for long enough for you to find something befitting your rank to do."

Derek grinned.

Brandon smiled and nodded. "Alright, Chief. I'm on it."

"Thanks, Brandon. Here …" Derek handed Brandon two twenty-dollar bills. "Take Tara to dinner tonight on me."

"Thanks. I will."

Brandon walked into the lobby and over to Louis's desk as he contemplated where he might take Tara after work.

"Ah, Officer Russell," Louise called.

She was a pleasant enough woman. She was attractive and had a nice, wholesome quality about her. Louise's straight blonde hair fell to her shoulders, and she looked up at Brandon from behind a large pair of thick glasses.

"Hey, Louise. What's going on?"

"There's a really big older guy over by your desk. Derek said you'd know what it was about."

Brandon shrugged. "Thanks, Louise. I'll get right on it."

He imagined a really big older guy to mean a stocky older guy with a beer gut. When he got to his desk, he saw broad shouldered blond man seated opposite his own chair.

"Nick Gunar? I'm Brandon Russell. Pleased to meet you."

The large man wore khaki Dockers pants, a dark red shirt, and a brown sport coat. He turned in the chair to face Brandon, and the younger man realized that Nick Gunar was almost as tall as he was while still seated. Nick Gunar nodded and stood.

Brandon found himself looking up and up as Nick Gunar's form ascended. At his full height, Nick Gunar was noticeably taller than Derek. Even taking into account the chief's slouch, Derek was a tall man. Nick Gunar was taller and had posture that screamed military. Gunar had to be a solid six foot five, and instead of being portly with a bear gut, he was lean and muscular. Even wearing the jacket, there was no hiding the man's massive shoulders and bulging chest.

Brandon estimated Gunar to weigh something in the neighborhood of two-forty, all of it muscle, sinew, and bone.

Gunar's face was lined from age, but still looked like it was carved from granite. In his younger days, Brandon imagined that the man had looked like Ivan Drago.

"Nick Gunar," the man said in a low growl of a voice.

Brandon accepted Gunar's handhake, and took note of the big Swede's massive hands. He imagined that Nick Gunar could palm a basketball with one hand, and probably had the strength to deflate it. The man's hands were like steel and the knuckles were enlarged, as though he had spent many years using his fists.

Knowing what was on Gunar's resume and seeing the man standing before him, Brandon had a new appreciation for the applicant. Nick Gunar was a hardened, seasoned man. Now, he knew why Derek had really wanted to get away. While Brandon had only been a police officer for about four years, he could see that Gunar was a dangerous man.

"Won't you have a seat?" Brandon tried to stay cool. Gunar was not here to shoot up the station, after all; he wanted to join them. In spite of his age, the man was certainly fit enough for Middleton.

Gunar and Brandon sat and began the interview. Brandon took a brief moment to look at Gunar's job application which Derek had conveniently left in a folder on his desk. He noted Nick's date of birth – November first, nineteen fifty-seven. That made him sixty-one years old.

"Thank you for applying to the Middleton Police Department," Brandon began. "My first question is this: why would a man your age be looking to begin a career in law enforcement?"

Gunar shrugged. "Been a soldier all my life. My son is a professor at Haverhill and wants me to move to Middleton; says I'd like it here. So far, it looks nice, but a man's got to work. The only thing I know how to do is be a soldier. I've done bodyguard work, security work, and mercenary work. Been in the Army …."

"Yeah, special forces, I see."

Gunar nodded. "Yup. Look, Officer Russell; I appreciate that you cut to the chase instead of beating around the bush – I prefer to talk straight. So, let me get right to the point. You can use me. I have the experience, and I have the skills. I've fought wars on twelve continents and done security in the most dangerous places on the planet. I didn't know about your bandit problem when I applied, but I can handle myself in a shootout. Not only am I an expert marksman, but I can handle your squad-cars, I can ride police bikes, I can drive boats, and fly choppers and planes. And I guarantee you my hand to hand skills are more than up to the task."

Brandon nodded, surprised at how much he found himself agreeing with the man. Certainly, if even half of what Gunar claimed was true, the man was way overqualified. If he had a son teaching at Haverhill, clearly, Gunar had raised a fine young man and had skills that went beyond just killing people.

He wondered what Cassie would think of Nick Gunar. He decided that she would see the best in the old Swede and would welcome him with open arms. Cassie had been a mom to him for longer than Jennifer Russell, Jake's first wife, had been, and by now, was his primary maternal figure. What would Cassie do? What would Jake have done?

Brandon decided that since Derek had already done all of the prep work and the only thing they were really waiting on was the background check, he would not be the one to stop Nick Gunar. If the man wanted to settle in Middleton to live near his son and enjoy a quiet life, who was Brandon to say no?

If the background check came back clean, then Derek could bring him in for a second interview.

"You make a strong case, Mister Gunar. I think we could use you. Once the background check comes back, we'll be in touch."

Brandon stood and Gunar stood with him, towering over the young police officer. The two men shook hands, Nick Gunar offering an approving but faint smile.

"I appreciate the opportunity."

Brandon watched as the large merc walked away. As much as Gunar was dangerous, Brandon did not feel nervous around him. Certainly, picking a fight with Nick Gunar would be a mistake, but there was a gentleness about the rough looking merc that surprised the younger policeman. A lot of people came to Middleton for a chance at a new life. Brandon hoped that Middleton could give that to Nick Gunar.

 **GW**

Lori stood as Brandon rounded the corner. It was like déjà vu. The last time they had a conversation like this, Lori was angry at Brandon's decision to join the police force. Now, she was genuinely worried for his safety, but had no interest in dissuading him from police work.

"Brandon," she called as he walked to her.

Brandon never got over how childlike his sister had remained. Though older than Grace, Lori was a few inches shorter than Cassie's daughter, and her voice still sounded the same as it had back in the eighth grade. Lori had remained very slender and never really filled out, making her look like a high school girl rather than the twenty-six-year-old journalist that she was.

"Hey, Lori. How's the Eagle treating you?"

Lori responded by hugging him tightly. "When I heard you were in a shootout … all I could think of was Dad."

Brandon held her. "I know. But I knew I would be alright. I thought for a moment that I heard his voice. I know it sounds crazy, but …."

"We grew up with Cassie," Lori noted. "I believe it. I'm just glad you're alright. How's Officer Thompkins?"

"Thanks to Sam, she's alive. Beyond that, I won't know until I go over to the hospital later this morning."

Lori nodded. "How was your interview? Derek said you were interviewing someone for the force."

Brandon thought for a moment and then smiled. "Pretty good, actually. I was kind of skeptical about the guy, but I think he'll be a good fit."

Lori smiled back at him. "I'm glad to hear. Now, I need to get to the official reason I'm here: I'm covering the robberies. I've already talked to Derek, but I wanted your take."

"Well, the robbers are violent. I don't think they're locals gone bad, though I suppose anything's possible. Thing is, they don't seem to be leaving. We think they're staying in the area precisely because of our small-town police force. The same kinds of crimes went down in Blairsville a couple of months back, but there were three of them. They think the third one was killed in a shootout, but the crooks got away."

"So, they came here because we're smaller than Blairsville."

Brandon nodded. "That's the theory. Between this and Ryan's real estate schemes with Jones, a lot of people in Middleton are nervous."

"Yes," Lori agreed. "The Grand-Mart. I imagine that would have everyone nervous."

"Yeah; even Cassie. They have something called a Life-Books in their store. It's like a chain version of the Bell, Book & Candle, complete with Yankee Candle Company merchandise, new age and world music, and all kinds of pseudo-mystical self-help books."

"But no Cassie," Lori said with assurance. "Nobody can duplicate Cassie."

"That won't matter," Brandon countered. "People will already be in this place. It has a Java Shed, a pharmacy, an optometrist, and copies of pretty much every small business in Middleton. Everywhere a Grand-Mart opens, the local shops go under and everyone ends up working for Grand-Mart part time at minimum wage with no benefits. If this thing goes in, it'll be really bad for us."

"That's very astute of you, Brandon. Can I quote you?"

"Sure."

"Thanks." Lori smiled and hugged her brother again. "I just wanted to make sure you were okay. Let me know as soon as you hear about Jill. She was a classmate of mine. We weren't close, but … she's a nice girl. I hope she's okay."

"Soon as I know, I'll call."

"Thanks."

They hugged one last time and Lori left the station, her mission accomplished. Brandon was glad that their reunion had been without any of the tension that they had when he joined the force. He only hoped that this recent bout of danger would not upset Cassie and Grace too much. Brandon still had not seen them in person since the shootout, but later today, he planned to stop by Grey House. Then, they would almost certainly let him know how they felt.


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13**

It was ten in the morning, and Cassie opened the Bell, Book & Candle for a new day. She had given Tara the day off – the near-robbery of and the shootout between her husband and the robbers left Cassie's part time help more than a little shaken. Somehow, the robbers had been kept from Tara. Cassie smiled at that. Perhaps the Bell Book really did have a charm against the negative.

Her cell phone rang, and she looked at the caller ID. Seeing Sam's picture, she answered.

"Please tell me you have good news!"

" _Jill will be alright_ ," Sam assured. " _She should recover and even be able to go on and take the position in Chicago. How's Tara doing? That was pretty intense yesterday._ "

"She's shaken up, Sam. To tell you the truth, I am too; I almost lost Brandon."

" _But you didn't_ ," Sam assured. " _Life is unpredictable, Cassie. Believe me, I know. But you don't usually get caught up in 'what-ifs' and 'could-haves.' I know this hits close to home, but don't start down that path; it'll never end_."

Cassie could not help but smile as Sam took on the roll that Cassie normally played. She loved that he could be that source of encouragement and calm for her that she tried to be for everyone else.

She was about to tell him how much she loved that about him. She was about to tell him how much she loved him. Instead, she gasped as a late model Honda Accord screeched to a stop in front of the Bell Book, two ski-mask clad men jumping out, guns drawn.

"Oh, my God, Sam! They're back!"

" _Cassie …._ "

"Call 911 for me!"

" _On it._ " Sam hung up to do as Cassie asked, but she hardly felt reassured.

The two men barged in, the smaller one heading straight for her while his partner began looking for merchandise to take.

"The till and the safe – now!" The smaller one, about Cassie's height, was now right up in her face, leaning across the counter, gun pointed at her. With his free hand, he deposited a plastic bag on the counter. "Fill it!"

She briefly wondered if this was how Jake felt right before he was killed. As Cassie began to open the till, she noticed the front door open briefly. A large blond man stealthily made his way inside, avoiding the notice of either of the robbers, and proceeded to disappear behind one of the free-standing display cases.

Cassie simply nodded and began emptying the contents of the till into the bag.

"Faster!" The smaller man was screaming at her. He began cursing and making like he was going to hit her. Cassie simply nodded and sped up just slightly.

As the larger robber walked by the free-standing display case where the third man had hidden, the blond man popped up, grabbed the robber, placing his hand over the man's mouth, and pulled the robber down behind the case in eerie silence.

As she continued to load the bag, the blond man stood from behind the case. He was tall, taller than her adventurous admirer, John Dover, and John was about six-three or six-four. The tall man approached, his steps making not a sound. He moved with sinuous grace, closing the gap between himself and her assailant. Then she heard the sound of sirens.

"Scott," the robber shouted, "she's got the bag loaded! We gotta roll, man!" When Scott did not answer, he shouted, "Scott?" When Scott failed to answer a second time, he turned around, finding himself face to face with the large blond man.

"You're not Scott!"

"And you're not very smart," the blond man growled with a bit of a sneer.

Before Cassie even saw him move, the blond man grabbed the robber's weapon hand, and with some kind of jujutsu technique, took hold of the gun. With a sudden counter clockwise twist of his body and sharp downward pressing of his hands, the large man broke the robber's wrist with a loud crack and took the gun as the robber fell to the floor.

The blond man then followed up by bringing a massive booted foot down on the robber's face, knocking him out cold. He then walked over to the first robber and picked his gun up from the floor and then returned to the counter, placing both of the robbers' guns down atop it.

Then he looked at Cassie, and his eyes widened. "No way …."

"Excuse me?" She looked at him with puzzlement, unsure of where this was going, her heart still racing from the ordeal.

"Of all the places," he said with visible surprise. "I never thought I'd see you again. You alright?"

Who was this man? Cassie had never seen him before, though she was very thankful for his timely arrival. His gruff voice had a slight accent – Swedish?

"Yes … I … I will be," she assured, her voice still trembling. "Right now, I'm …."

"It's alright," he said casually, placing his massive right hand on her shoulder reassuringly. "We've been through worse."

Cassie looked at him with puzzlement. "Excuse me?"

"Grace Lashield – you don't remember me … do you?" He shook his head and made a slight laugh. "You really have changed, haven't you?"

Now Cassie understood. "I'm not who you think I am."

He raised his left eyebrow in puzzlement. Cassie just smiled and extended her right hand.

"Cassie Nightingale."

The man accepted her handshake, his massive hand enveloping hers. His grip was firm – a good business handshake – but not bone crushing.

"Nick Gunar," he said. "I thought you were …."

"I have a look-alike. Grace Lashield is staying at Grey House." Then she smiled again. "And you missed your check-in last night, Nick Gunar."

"Grace? She's here?"

Middleton's enchantress nodded. "She is. I think seeing you will do her good."

Before they could continue the conversation, two squad cars pulled up, and Brandon and Derek jumped out, guns drawn. The two of them practically burst through the door of the Bell Book.

"Cassie!" Brandon ran to her, hugging her tightly. "You okay?"

"Thanks to Nick Gunar, yes."

Derek looked at the two unconscious robbers. "I'd say so."

"No shots fired," Cassie assured. "Nobody's in danger."

"Nick," Brandon, said, "you weren't kidding about your hand to hand skills."

"I think we've got a new man on the force," Derek said with a huge grin.

Nick Gunar nodded, a look of pleasant surprise on his face. "Thanks. Didn't think you guys were gonna hire me cause of my age."

"That, and you're really scary," Derek said with a sheepish grin. "But Brandon said he liked you, and clearly, you can do your job, so … when can you start?"

"Soon as your background check says I can," Nick replied.

Cassie smiled and let out a deep sigh of relief. The Middleton Bandits had been caught and nobody had been killed. She picked up her phone and called Sam.

" _Cassie!_ "

"It's alright, Sam," she assured. "A guardian angel happened by and Brandon and Derek are taking custody of the Middleton Bandits. I'll tell you about it when you get here."

" _I'm driving now. I'll be there in a few minutes_."

"I know."

" _How?_ "

"You're on your car speakerphone," she said with a giggle. "Kind of a give-away."

" _I love you, Cassie_."

"I love you too, Sam. See you in a few minutes."

Cassie hung up the phone and looked up at her large rescuer. "So, Nick, when are you checking in at Grey House?"

"This afternoon," he replied. "Right now, I'm meeting my son for brunch at the Bistro."

"Sam will be here anytime. Need a lift?"

The big Swede shrugged. "Sure."

True to form, Sam arrived minutes later. He ran into the Bell Book calling, "Cassie," before hugging his fiancée tightly.

"I'm okay, Sam," she replied. "Thanks to my timely rescuer, Nick Gunar."

Sam looked up at Nick Gunar. It was the first time Cassie had ever seen her fiancé crane his neck to look another man in the eye.

"Nick, this is Doctor Sam Radford; my fiancé."

"You have my thanks," Sam exclaimed, shaking Nick's hand. "Cassie is my … she's the most amazing woman in the world. I don't know what I would have done if things had gone differently." He shook his head, seeming to shudder at the thought of losing Cassie. "If there's anything I can do for you …."

Gunar shrugged. "Cassie says you can drive me to the Bistro. Beyond that, I'm good."

"We could use you, Sam," Derek called. "Both the perps are unconscious, and I think one has a broken wrist."

Sam nodded and Cassie waited patiently as Sam tended to her would-be robbers. Her future husband woke them up and worked to keep them awake.

"I need to know what you did to them," Sam said, looking at Nick. "Did you knock them both out?"

"Just the one," Nick replied. "Put the other in a sleeper."

Sam nodded and resumed treating them. Soon, the ambulance arrived, and Doctor Radford stood.

"I've set his wrist as best I could," Sam instructed the paramedics as they came to take charge of the concussed robber. "Keep him awake – he's suffered a concussion. He has a broken orbital and possible skull fracture from the boot to the head."

Cassie winced at Sam's assessment. Even though the men had tried to rob her, she still found the violence against them distasteful. They were human beings. They were still people in need of care. Whatever their crimes, she hated to see them injured.

The paramedics looked over at Nick Gunar. "His boot?" one of them asked of Sam.

Doctor Radford nodded.

"Thanks, man!" The paramedic went over and shook Gunar's hand. "One of these goons pistol whipped my sister at her shop."

"Just did what I had to," Gunar replied.

"Did you have to stomp on his head?" Cassie asked.

"Yes." Gunar did not sound like he enjoyed it, though it clearly did not bother him. His response was matter of fact. "The threat needed to be neutralized and I didn't want to kill him."

Cassie nodded with a reserved smile. "And I appreciate that nobody was killed in my shop. Thank you, Nick."

Gunar gave a slight nod. "You're welcome."

Derek and Brandon took statements from Cassie, Nick, and Sam, and were about to leave, when Martha Tinsdale burst into the shop.

"Cassie! I came as soon as I heard! Those brutes didn't manhandle you, did they?" Martha was out of breath, as though she had walked as fast as she could to get to the Bell Book.

"Thank you, Martha," the Merriwick matriarch assured. "Thanks to Mister Gunar, I am safe, and the robbers are in police custody."

"He's joining the force," Derek added. "Martha Tinsdale, meet Nick Gunar."

As though noticing the six-foot five inch man for the first time, Martha suddenly looked at Nick, and then looked up and up.

"Oh, my," she said with a chuckle. "Somebody ate their spinach." Then she gave Gunar's left arm a couple of pats. "Strong stuff!" Martha extended her hand. "I am Martha Tinsdale, head of the Concerned Citizens League, and former mayor. Let me be the first to welcome you to our fair town."

"Don't you live in Blairsville?" Derek asked somewhat condescendingly.

"Only because of that insipid border issue!" Martha looked at Cassie for support, but it was Nick who spoke.

"Home is where the heart is, Chief Sanders."

"That's right," Middleton's former mayor exclaimed.

Gunar shook the Martha's hand with a nod and a slight smile. "Thanks for the welcome, Mrs. Tinsdale. Good to finally meet you."

Mrs. Tinsdale grinned at this. "You know of me then?"

"Yes," the big Swede affirmed. "My son is a professor at Haverhill – Kam Gunar. He met you earlier in the summer."

The former mayor looked confused. She looked from Cassie to Derek, then back to Nick.

"You don't … look like him."

Gunar just laughed. "His mother was from Southeast Asia. I legally adopted him after I married her. After she passed away, Kam and I came back to the States."

"Oh." Martha paused for a moment. "Sorry for your loss, Mister Gunar. However …" Then she beamed. "We're glad to have you here in Middleton. Now that I've confirmed that all is well, I must be off – I have a meeting with your cousin, Cassie. We have to stop Ryan."

"So, I hear," Cassie agreed.

"Then you know the urgency. I must vamoose! Ta ta!" With that, Martha marched from Cassie's shop, off to see Mayor Pershing.

Sam looked from Cassie to Nick. "Well that was interesting. So – lunch; shall we?"

"We shall," Cassie said as she looped her arm round Sam's. "Coming Nick?"

Gunar nodded, and the three of them left, Cassie locking the shop behind her.


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14**

The ride to the Bistro with Nick Gunar was brief – it was just a couple of blocks away. Gunar was not the talkative type either, so there was little conversation.

"I'm just glad you were there when you were," Sam said, filling the silence. "You have my thanks."

Gunar just nodded and said, "You're welcome."

As they rode in silence, it was Gunar who spoke next.

"Your Cassie is a dead ringer for an old friend of mine – an old friend who's staying at Grey House."

"Oh, Grace Lashield," Sam replied. "We've met, and you're right; they're like identical twins."

"How's she doing? Grace, I mean."

Sam nodded. "Seems alright. We didn't officially meet, but she was with the security team earlier this year in Colombia when I was working with the relief agency after the floods."

"So, she's still working."

"Looks that way," Sam agreed. "Don't know what brought her here. She returned something I'd lost, but I get the feeling that's not the real reason she traveled hundreds of miles to Middleton. Unless she's looking to be a cop, there's certainly no security work to be had."

"On that, we agree," Nick said as the Jeep came to a stop in front of the Bistro. "Thanks for the lift, Doctor Radford."

"You just saved my fiancé," the doctor replied. "Please, call me Sam."

The two men shook hands.

"You got it, Sam. If you're at Grey House when I check in, I'll see you then."

"You play basketball?"

Nick nodded.

"I live next door to Gray House. Have a hoop in the driveway. If you're up for a pickup game …."

"Might take you up on that."

With that, Nick Gunar exited the Jeep and headed for the Bistro. Sam grinned at the prospect of a game. It had been years since he had played with anyone truly capable, and Nick Gunar was tall enough to be a challenge on that front alone – and Sam loved a challenge.

Nick Gunar stood outside the Bistro for a moment, just assessing the place. It was an old habit, but a good one; even in a place as idyllic as Middleton, there could be trouble. The Middleton Bandits had proven that. Of course, now that Nick had taken them out of commission, the biggest threat to Middleton was the spectre of Grand Mart. Nick hoped that the deal would fall through – he hated Grand Mart.

The Bistro was well maintained and nicely appointed, having the look of a European café. The outdoor garden seating was enclosed by a wrought iron fence with nicely manicured shrubbery about the base, and the building's brick façade was that nice red brick that was rarely seen in modern construction.

Walking up and down the sidewalk and seated at the outdoor tables of the Bistro were nice. Suburbanite folk; moms, young children, professionals on their lunch breaks, and retirees. It was unlike any place Nick Gunar had ever lived. Now, he had a job with the Middleton Police Department and a temporary residence at Grey House. He had enough money to stay there for more than a month, but he would hate to wear out his welcome.

A familiar young man smiled at him from one of the tables and waved him over. It was his son. Nick nodded and opened the wrought iron gate and stepped into the outdoor seating area, and immediately, people took notice of him. He was dressed in casual clothes, but everything about him, from his world-worn features to his posture to his imposing physical size made him stand out.

These people were just regular people; soft and pleasant. Nick Gunar was a killer, and no matter how dressed up he might be, there was no hiding it. The people did not know why he did not fit in; only that he did not, and that he made them nervous – just like he had made Chief Sanders nervous.

People standing or making their way back to their tables gave him a wide berth as he made his way to his son's table. Once there, he took his seat.

"Kam."

His son laughed. "Man of few words as always, Dad."

Nick smiled slightly. "The less I say …."

"The more my work gets done," Kam sang, completing a verse in an Elton John song.

"Not what I was going to say, but that works."

Kam laughed again. "I understand congratulations are in order. Oh, I ordered for you by the way – coffee; black, and the best Philly cheesesteak you've ever had."

A waitress brought the coffee, and said, "You're sandwich will be right out, Sir."

Nick nodded then turned back to his son. "Yeah; I start work with the Middleton Police Department as soon as the background check clears."

"Really? That's awesome! Totally didn't see that one coming!"

The old Swede raised an eyebrow. "What were the congratulations for?"

"I heard you took down the Middleton Bandits."

Nick nodded approvingly. "Word travels fast."

"Martha blew through for her coffee and baguette – couldn't stop talking about it. Mentioned you by name. Said you like a middle aged He-Man." Then he laughed. "The woman even held up a plastic knife and called out, "by the Power of Grayskull" with the whole place looking on. It was totally hilarious!"

The old Swede chuckled at the image. Having met Martha, he could completely imagine what it must have looked like.

"Martha was interesting," Nick finally said. "I like her."

"Really?" Kam looked surprised. "A lot of people find her to be … an overbearing micromanager."

Nick shrugged. "She's not afraid of me."

"Dad, it's not like you're walking around with that bazooka." Then Kam looked worried. "You … didn't bring that thing with you … did you?"

Gunar shrugged. "Not yet, but when I find a place to live, yeah; it'll be coming with me."

"So, who's afraid of you?"

"Chief Sanders for one," Gunar said.

"Huh." Kam looked puzzled. "Wonder why. He's a pretty big guy and a cop."

"Same reason everyone else is," Nick explained. "I'm a killer, Kam; a predator. I might not live that life anymore, but it's what I am, and on some level, they know that – and it scares them."

"Come on, Dad; you were a soldier. Soldiers sometimes have to kill people."

"I was a soldier," Nick agreed. "But after serving a couple of tours, I became a soldier of fortune – a mercenary. Colonel Merrick didn't hire me because I was a nice guy. He hired me because he thought I could strongarm your people into leaving the island and knew that I'd kill if I had to."

"Well, you did kill," Kam reminded him. "Just not the people he intended."

"Exactly," Nick replied. "Your mother saved me. She made me something I could never have been without her. Then she died. Thanks to her, I could be a father to you, but just because a tiger can raise a deer doesn't make it any less of a tiger."

Kam nodded, the analogy making sense to him. "Sorry, Dad. I remember when you came to the island. I was young, but I remember. I was never afraid you."

Nick smiled. "I know. Neither was your mother."

"How did things go with Brandon? His little sister's going to be one of my students this fall." Kam then added, "Apparently, she put a bug in Chief Sanders' ear. I think it got you the interview."

"I'll have to thank her when I meet her," Nick noted. "Lieutenant Russell was nervous at first, but once we broke the ice we got along fine."

"Yeah. You've met their mom, right?"

"Not sure. Who is she?"

"Cassie Nightingale," Kam explained.

"Cassie is Brandon's mother?"

"Stepmother," Kam clarified. "Grace Russell is Brandon's half-sister."

"Cassie Nightingale," Nick mused. "She looks just like Grace."

"Well, Cassie is her mother."

"Not that Grace."

Kam looked puzzled, but Nick just smiled and chuckled. "Doubt you remember her – she was on the job that brought me to the island."

"Vaguely." Kam looked unsure.

"Grace Lashield," Nick explained. "She fought on my side when things went south. Haven't seen her since. Then her doppelganger tells me that Grace Lashield is staying at Grey House."

Before Kam could respond, the waitress brought their sandwiches. The Philly Cheesesteak smelled delicious. Nick took a bite and nodded in approval.

"You're right," the big Swede declared. "This really is the best Philly Cheesesteak I've ever had."

"Told ya."


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15**

"What is it Martha?" Abigail sighed, already frustrated with the recent turn of events. She put on her pre-packaged smile as Martha Tinsdale entered her office.

The former mayor looked about, as though trying to locate some electronic monitoring system.

"How did you know I was …."

"What can I do for you, Martha?" Abigail's voice was filled with a sweetness that was as artificial as her smile.

"We must strategize!" Martha twirled her 'r's as she spoke, projecting her voice as though talking to a larger gathering, and gesticulating so as to look like she was either pantomiming or casting a Harry Potter spell. "Grand-Mart; we must figure out how to put a stop to this infestation that threatens our town!"

Abigail sighed again, as Martha hit upon the very thing that had been frustrating Middleton's newest mayor.

"They've been courting the Town Council aggressively," the mayor shared, "speaking the honeyed language that all small-town politicians find irresistible; money."

"Hmph," Martha said with a scowl. "I'm surprised they haven't courted you."

"They have," Abigail replied. "I turned them down. Why do you think they're wooing the Town Council, each with twice the money they tried throwing at me?"

"Oh." Martha sounded both surprised and apologetic at Abigail's answer. "I must admit, I am somewhat surprised that you turned them away."

Abigail shook her head. "I've dealt with enough devils in my life, Martha. I know one when I see one."

"Ryan Elliot is behind this," Martha groused. "He needs to be stopped!"

"As I recall, Martha," Abigail reminded her, "it was you that he had to stop – back when you had similar plans as mayor. Honestly, I'm surprised to see you wanting to fight against the very thing that you once were trying to accomplish during your tenure as mayor."

Martha deflated at Abigail's intentional jab.

"I've learned a lot since then," the former mayor said with a sigh. "I had such grand plans back then – another term as mayor, then possibly governor." Then she shook her head. "But I see things differently now. I'm back with the Concerned Citizens League …"

"Even though you live in Blairsville," Abigail interjected.

"Yes, well – I've gone back to my roots. Who knows? Maybe I'll reopen Martha's Sweet Beginnings."

"Not if we have a Grand Mart," Abigail lamented. "They have a bridal department too."

Martha sighed. Abigail just nodded. This was a mess, and she was completely ill equipped to deal with fending off a corporate giant alone.

"Martha, Ryan had two crazy real-estate ventures with Jones that needed to be stopped. How did he get turned around?"

"Cassie," Martha said with a sigh. "She made him see the light." Then the former mayor's face lit up. "Cassie! If anyone could do it, she can!"

Abigail shook her head. "This is bigger than Ryan, Martha. And even if it wasn't, they're friendly acquaintances at best. They may have smoothed things over after she started seeing Sam, but they haven't spoken since."

"I know." Martha sighed again. "But I still think Cassie's our best hope."

"I've been pounding my head against wall with this," Abigail confessed. "Maybe you're right, though …" then she smiled as an idea came to her, "but not in the way that you think."

Martha tilted her head and looked at Abigail with puzzlement.

"I don't understand."

Abigail grinned, this time, a genuine smile. "No, but you will."


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter 16**

It was late afternoon, and Grace Lashield was going out of her mind. There was nothing to do in Middleton. Well, that was not entirely true – there was plenty to do; it was just that all of it was mundane, middle America activity, the kind in which Grace had not participated since she was in high school. The only thing that had proven to be even remotely interesting was the Middleton Microbrew, but even that was so tame as to be … boring.

"Oh, hi!"

Grace spun and saw her name-doppelganger, Grace Russel, her visual doppelganger's daughter. Grace Russel was tall and slender, just like her mother – just like Grace Lashield, though the younger lady lacked the toned muscles that the mercenary possessed. Lashield estimated that within a year or two, the young girl would be as tall as her mother, which the mercenary knew to be five-foot-ten; her own height.

"Afternoon, kid."

The younger Grace wrinkled her nose at the mercenary's greeting. "Kid? I have a name – it's your name too, you know."

The older Grace nodded. "I know. Still getting used to having an identical twin. Her kid having my name just adds another level of weird." Then she laughed. "At least you don't look just like me at seventeen …."

"Eighteen," the younger girl interjected.

"Whatever. So; what do you … Midletonians do around here? This place is fucking boring."

Grace Russel blanched at the older woman's language, visibly unused to hearing anything other than Hallmark channel rated conversation.

"What – nobody cusses in Middleton?"

"I hear that kind of thing in school," the younger Grace replied. "Nobody uses foul language inside of Gray House – not that I've ever heard at least. My mom and Sam never use such language!"

George walked into the kitchen and began laughing. "Ah, Grace; Miss Lashield is a soldier. Trust me, it's not directed at you."

The mercenary laughed. "No worries – I'll do my best to keep a lid on it. But that doesn't help me in the boring department."

The ring of the doorbell interrupted the conversation.

"That would be our new arrival," George announced. "I'd better get that."

This gave Grace Russel a chance to regroup. "Well … there's Middleton's scenic downtown, the library, the Bistro … oh – we have an old tome movie theatre!"

The mercenary grimaced. "Not exactly helping your argument, kid."

"Maybe all you need is the right partner … Grace Lashield," a man's voice interjected. The low, growl of a voice was unmistakable.

"No fucking way!" The mercenary spun around, hardly believing her ears.

There, standing in the entry to the kitchen was George, and towering over the old man was the big Swede. Grace Lashield could hardly believe it. Nick Gunar was standing in Gray House, a warm smile on the big man's weathered face.

"Nick … what are you doing here?"

"Long story," Gunar replied. "You up for a beer?"

Grace Lashield nodded, cautiously walking over to her old partner in crime. Gunar was dressed in casual clothing – blue jeans, a parchment colored shirt, and a worn brown leather jacket – but no amount of fashion change could disguise the big merc. Gunar was as big and powerful as he was over two decades ago, and from the look in his eyes, Grace Lashield could tell that Nick Gunar still had his edge.

"You know him?" George looked up at the big Swede. "Could have used him last week when I had to replace the bulbs in all those ceiling lamps."

"Yeah," Grace Lashield said with a nod. "Never thought I'd see you again in a million years, Nick Gunar."

Grace Russel watched with interest as the mercenary who only moments ago had been the picture of cool aloofness dropped her tough-gal act. She had no idea what Lashield and Gunar's association had been, but Grace Lashield was visibly moved at seeing her old friend again – at least Grace Russel hoped that Gunar was an old friend. Grace Lashield was armed, and she was certain that Nick Gunar was as well. If they were about to settle some old score, she did not want to be around.

Grace Russel hated guns. It was what had taken her beloved father from her. Brandon was lucky not to have died the day before during a shootout with the Middleton Bandits, and his partner was still in the hospital recovering from her wounds. Grace Russel hated guns – and both of Gray House's guests were carrying one.

Even without a weapon, Nick Gunnar was an imposing figure. He looked down at the very tall Grace Lashield the way that Sam Radford looked down at Grace Russel. She was certain that this man was taller than Chief Sanders, whom Grace was certain was the tallest man in Middleton.

Unlike Sam and Derek, Gunar was big, the jacket doing nothing to hide the man's bulging chest and broad shoulders. His weathered face told of many years of action, and he carried a deep sadness within him, a sadness that was plain to see in his eyes. Then she remembered that she had heard his name.

"Kam Gunar," Grace Russel blurted out.

"That's my son," the big man confirmed. "You must be Grace Russel; Cassie's daughter."

She was happy that Nick had not called her a kid. "Yes, I am."

"Then I guess I owe you a thank-you; he said you were the one who put the bug in Chief Sanders' ear to hire me."

"I did," the younger Grace boasted, though now that she was meeting him in person, Professor Gunar's adoptive father was not at all what she had expected.

In spite of his stylish clothes, the big man was no suburbanite. Her intuition told her that like Lashield, Gunar was dangerous. Her father always had an uncanny sense for picking out dangerous people, something that her mother often lacked. Now, she wondered if her danger sense had been inherited from her father rather than from Cassie. It would explain why she tended to see looming disaster rather than the happy outcomes her mother seemed to so easily predict.

Unlike her father, Grace had virtually no experience with dangerous people. Of course, anyone could be dangerous under the right circumstances; Jake Russel had been killed by an armed robber. She and her mother had attended the killer's trial, a killer who proved to be a nervous, skinny young man barely out of high school, who had panicked and killed a small-town cop.

Nick Gunar was different. He was no smalltime hood, and he was no nervous killer. She doubted that he would ever kill anyone accidentally; if he did, it would not be by mistake, and if he was one of Grace Lashield's associates, then Gunar had killed a lot of people. However, her Merriwick intuition told Grace that in spite of this, she could relax; Nick Gunar was a friend.

With that in mind, she extended her hand. "Pleased to meet you, Nick, and welcome to Gray House."

Gunar's handshake was firm, and his hand engulfed her own.

"Thanks," he said, his voice still a low growl that added a degree of menace.

"You sound a little like Clint Eastwood," Grace noted with a smile.

"Been told that before," Gunar replied. Then he looked at the older Grace. "Let me get my luggage upstairs to my room, and we can catch up." Unlike Grace Lashield, Nick Gunar carried two Samsonite suitcases, rather than a rucksack. As he picked up his luggage, he added, "You know, you have a doppelganger."

"Yeah," Lashield said. "She runs this place."

"You've met my mom?" Grace Russel laughed. "Did you mistake her for your friend?"

"I did," Nick confirmed. "I was wondering why she wasn't killing people – then it turned out not to be her."

"Killing people?" The younger Grace's eyes widened.

"You'd have to have been there," Nick said as though that settled the matter. "Your future step-father gave me a ride to the Bistro – seems like a good man."

The younger Grace nodded. "He's the best."

"Seen him in action in Colombia," Lashield confirmed. "He really is the best."

Gunar nodded and offered a satisfied smile. "Small world."

With that, he ascended the stairs to his room, luggage in hand. Grace Russel imagined that George must be having a fit over a guest carrying his own luggage up the stairs. Just as he was out of sight, the doorbell rang.

George came around the corner. "That must be our three o'clock check-in."

Grace Russel nodded. "Then I suppose I should stand in for my mother."

"By all means, young lady," George demurred. "Go right ahead."

Grace Russel answered the door, trying to visualize who waited on the other side the way her mother did. No answers came to mind, though she realized that her mother figured things out with a more Sam Radford-like deduction just as often as with actual intuition. When she opened the door, however, Grace Russel let out a sharp gasp.

"Ryan!"

The former Middleton realtor nodded with a sigh. "Yes, Grace it's me. Nice to see you too."

"What are you doing here?"

"I've booked a room," Ryan replied, nonplussed by Grace's reaction.

"Well, don't just stand there," George admonished. "Welcome the man to Gray House."


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter 17**

Grace Lashield had called a Lyft to take herself and Nick to the micro-brewery, the only place in town with a nice selection of quality beer along with decent food. The place was so… tame, but it would have to do.

Nick Gunar ordered for the two of them. It was not a date, but if her old merc partner wanted to buy the drinks, Lashield would not complain.

More to the point, what was he doing in Middleton?

"I hear you've been active in Colombia," the big Swede opened. "Hear you're doing reputable work too."

The bartender placed two tall mugs of stout in front of them and Grace took a deep draught of hers.

"Yeah; guarding medical and relief personnel during the flooding." She shook her head and offered a bewildered smile. "I'm glad to see you – don't get me wrong – but what the hell are you doing back in the United States, especially in this boring-ass place?"

Gunar shrugged. "Best for Kam. Not a merc anymore, Grace, not really. Did security work to put him through school and I just took a job as a police officer here in Middleton to be close by."

"Nick, you found paradise! You married Loki – okay, that just sounds weird when I say it out loud."

Nick nodded. "Marvel Comics."

"Yeah, I know – your Loki is gorgeous, and she's perfect for you! Don't tell me you convinced her to leave the island."

"Loki's dead, Grace."

She opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out.

"Nitromine stock was bought up by a new investment group a few years after you left," he explained. "They sent a lot more men with a lot more equipment. Loki was killed. I killed as many of them as I could before getting our son off the island."

"Oh, my god, Nick… I'm so sorry." The words sounded lame to Grace's ears, but she could think of nothing else to say.

"The island's probably gutted by now. Try not to think about it, but sometimes I can't help it. Anyway, I legally adopted Kam and worked security jobs to put him through school. He's got a doctorate and he's an anthropology professor at the local college."

"That explains a lot." Grace could hardly believe the tragic turn things had taken for Nick. All these years, she thought he had been living out his life with a beautiful woman on a paradise island.

The reality was a stark reminder of the perils of the life she and Nick had chosen. He had gotten out, and it still caught up with him.

"What's the local college?"

"Haverhill," he replied. "I lived in Chicago for a while, but he said running security in the big city wasn't good for me." Gunar chuckled. "He said Middleton is as close to paradise as I'll find. Gotta say, I still don't see it, but he loves it. Anyway, I thought it might be a nice change, so… here I am."

Grace laughed bitterly. "I want to just cry, Nick. She was so sweet and understanding. She was so… so perfect. You lost your wife and Kam lost his mother." She looked down at the foamy head of her beer. "I don't know what else to say."

Nick placed his large hand on her shoulder and offered a gentle squeeze. "It's alright, Grace; it's been about fifteen years."

"So… you've gotten over the loss?"

He shook his head. "Got past it, but you never get over it. I loved her more than anything, but with our son to raise, I couldn't wallow in the past. I had to be present in the here and now for him."

"Sounds like you did a bang-up job raising him, what with him being a PhD and a college professor."

Gunar shrugged again, a motion that seemed to make the whole room move. "Did my best. All I could do." Nick lifted the tall mug and drank before continuing. "But, what about you, Grace? You know how I ended up here, but what about you?"

Grace responded with a mirthless laugh. "Doctor Radford had left a medallion in Colombia; he'd used it to rig up an IV for a dehydrated woman. I thought maybe… maybe I'd find what I've been missing. So far, I've just been bored to tears and have to field weird questions from people who think I'm Cassie."

Nick nodded. "You could always join me on the force."

"No thank you." Grace shook her head. "I'd go out of my mind as a cop here."

"You never know. Besides, said you were looking for something. I know I was."

"You find it?"

"Not yet," he said with a grin. "But who knows? Never expected to see you again, but here you are." He shrugged and offered a slight grin. "Who knows what else might be waiting… just beneath the surface."

Grace smiled and raised her glass. "To new beginnings… and to having each other's backs, no matter where we end up."

He tapped his glass against hers and drank, saying, "Cheers."


End file.
